A Delphian Utopia
by Bedlam Flux
Summary: Pt.2 of Ambrosia. The Apocalypse is coming to our doorsteps.
1. Olympus

_**Hells Yes!**_

_**So here you are… the sequel to **A Rogue Omega**. How was that ending for you, huh? Pretty mean, I'd wager. Yes, I know… I'm horrible, and it sucks. But you still love me right?**_

_**So I wrote this chapter back when I was writing the seventh chapter of **Rogue Omega**, and lucky me, it still fits…**_

_**I'm only just finishing up the first chapter, then it's on to editing. I've decided to overlook the beta, or lack thereof. I'll just wing it for now. Let me know if my grammar gets too unbearable. **_

_**-**_

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_Prologue_

_**Olympus**_

-

The shadow in the dark had been there for a little over eleven months. Her dark, mahogany hair was tangled, and wild, showing that she had, at some point, moved from the spot she occupied now. Looking at her, however, you wouldn't guess that she was anything less than an alabaster statue.

Her crimson eyes were opened, revealing a black pupil, alive with thirst. She longed for something she had never tasted, craved something embedded into her instincts, and it was driving her _mad_ not to have it.

Day after day, she would sit there in wait, longing for the time that the ten feet of stone would slide open—_wherever that opening was_. It was unlocked every day of course, to allow her visitor entrance, but it was more of a one-way passage. In the room she had occupied for almost the past year, there was only darkness, surrounded by feet of stone on either side. She could break it, if the thirst hadn't already driven her slightly delirious. Her fasting gave a whole new meaning to the word _suffering_.

Her inhuman abilities were foreign to her; her strength, her agility, her advanced speech, vision, and hearing. It seemed as though she still thought of herself as human, the only difference she was aware of was the_ thirst_.

It was haunting, gnawing away at the lining of her stomach, burning constantly at the back of her throat. It churned a monster in her, so hideous, and so vicious, that it had become her worst fear, and the deepest, darkest enigma she had yet to solve.

Above her, she could hear the screams of the people being slaughtered by her keepers, and every time, the monster would growl, its hate for _them_ growing, and its yearning becoming more and more insufferable. It was starting to take over her conscious mind, attacking her memories and thoughts, corrupting them with gruesome visions of herself, killing, murdering, for her own pleasure, for her own satisfaction.

Now, it was not only the monster that was hungry, but her as well, the longing spreading to dwell even within her heart. It broadened like a curse over everything, and soon, she was unrecognizable, or would be, to those who knew her _before_.

Isabella Swan, it would seem, was changed.

--

Kale O' Callaugh sighed as he looked to his left, seeing nothing but dead bodies and vampires reigning in their beasts from the feeding. He stepped over a young woman with a pamphlet in her hand, and an older man, with a round belly to get to the door. Both sets of their eyes were open, wide, in shock. It was as though he didn't notice the painstaking way they glared up at him, even through death. The only thing on his mind was that it was time for his daily visit with the enticing prisoner.

When he arrived into the deepest parts of the underground, he nodded his head at the two guards by the stone door, who bowed their heads respectively right back. One turned to his right, pressing a large button on the wall, causing the large piece of stone in front of Kale to slide open.

He heard a growl from inside, and looked down, realizing the drop of blood that had fallen onto his shirt. Surely it would drive her even more insane than she already was.

"I'd let you out, Bella," he murmured into the darkness, "if you'd only promise not to run away. Then you could have your fill."

The growling grew louder as the door shut behind him, and he could see her figure through the dark. She didn't answer him in words, however, and he wondered if she even remembered how to speak. Suddenly, the growling stopped, and he saw Bella turn her head in his direction, peering curiously at him through the shadows.

"What?" he snapped, angered still that she had not told him her power. Could she feel the lust he held for her, or perhaps read his thoughts like her lover had been able to? Could she sense something in his being that was not apparent to any one else?

He made out the way her lips turned up at the corners, smirking, _taunting him_.

"Don't you want out of here, Bella? Don't you want to see the sun again?"

It was in that moment—he was almost positive—she would go back to being the immovable stone she had been mimicking for eleven months, not speaking, not hearing. As he thought this, she rose, and he swallowed hard as her lithe, seductive figure moved toward him, her crimson orbs trained solely on the almost dried drop of blood on his shirt.

"You smell delicious," they were her first words in what seemed like decades, and Kale was almost stunned at how beguiling her voice sounded, for not being used in so long, "or is it the blood on your shirt Kale?"

Finally, she stopped before him, her ghastly white fingers taking his collar between her hands. Her tragically ravishing face looked up at him through dark lashes, her red lips spreading into a wide, somewhat wild smile. She was clearly being driven mad by the smell of the blood. This was no longer the girl he had claimed, she was now, fully carnal.

"Bella," he murmured as she pressed flush against him, lowering her nose to the liquid on his chest, "control yourself."

"Control myself," she laughed without humor, "when you've locked me up here, with nothing to eat?"

"We've discussed—_or I have told you_—the terms of which I will release you upon. You seem irresponsive to them." She bent her head down further, sweet, sugary breath fanning across his chest as she inhaled the scent of the blood. How could a cooled, miniscule drop of blood call to her so?

Her tongue darted out, licking at the stain on his shirt, and she frowned as her pupils dilated, demanding more, "I'm really…_ very_ thirsty Kale," she whispered, obviously not hearing a word that he said, only the call of the beasts and demons inside of her, raging war on the more humane part of herself.

_What is happening to me?_ There was hardly any rational thought left in her brain, let alone, coherent processing. That had passed long ago, long before the _need_ became her sole reason for living.

"I'll take you upstairs right now," he told her, "if you swear to me not to run," he curled his hands around hers that were still latched onto his shirt, pulling them back, "if I have to come after you Bella, you will sit down here for much longer than you have already—without _anything to eat_."

She sighed, fixing her intense stare on him, licking her lips irresistibly, "Take me."

--

They ascended the stairs, Bella's smile sickeningly twisted with hunger and a feral sense of insanity. They say hunger can drive you to such things, but this was _so_ much more than that. Her fingers drummed on her palms as she walked, gracefully and distinctly predatory, towards the door at the end of the hall—the feeding room, where Kale would rid her of the disgusting habits those animal drinkers had instilled in her.

_Human blood is what we are meant to feed from_, he smiled, looking down at her with hazy eyes,_ Bella will be such a natural hunter._

"How strange," the brunette beside him murmured idly, flicking her somewhat amused gaze toward her captor. Bella was feeling not herself at all, and wondered what exactly she was like, before the change. Had she been compassionate, beautiful, _innocent_? Her hypothetical innocence, she knew, was about to be compromised, once she stepped through the doors before her. To her, they were so much more than doors.

Gateways to a decision that would set in stone the path she was to take for the rest of her extensive life. The opening, or the closing, of the doors she had opened when human, when she had really been Bella Swan.

_Swan_, she pondered, _and then what is Cullen?_

The name sounded so familiar whispered over and over again in her mind, visions of ethereal beings floating in and out of her conscious state, disastrous and broken. Their faces contorted with pain, and she couldn't help feeling that that was not the way they were supposed to look. For some reason, unknown to her untamed train of thought, she wanted them happy.

"Bella," the familiar drawl of Kale brought her back from her reverie and she looked around. They were now in the room that Declan had bitten her in, and her eyes immediately darted to the spot she had been staring at, at that moment.

Her memories, her past, her hopes and dreams came flooding back to her then, like a torrent of water just broken through a dam. As she closed her eyes, absorbing everything from her life before, one name made a tear in her heart, ripping it wide open as she swore to find its owner.

_Edward._

_-_

_I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
I, I pray that something picks me up  
And sets me down in your warm arms_

_-_

_**Yes! Sequel! And, personally, I think this Bella is kind of cool, you know? What do you think? If you don't like it, well not to fear, she won't be in this state of mind for long. Unfortunately… I kind of like her crazy. )**_

_**Oh, and I know she's supposed to be dead. You and me, we know better, but what about Edward? Hmmm... I'll let you mull over that. **_


	2. Chaos

_**So, from Greek letters to the Greek Creation Myth…. If you were wondering about the names of the chapters. The names don't necessarily have to deal with the content of the chapter. For example, this one is called 'chaos' but doesn't necessarily mean chaos ensues. Get it?**_

_**Hope you like this for a first chapter. Originally, this chapter was ten pages, but I had to split it up or it was gonna be like twenty. SO, next chapter will be out quickly…**_

_**And, I posted a one shot called 'Everytime'. Read it and review please!**_

**_-_**

**A Delphian Utopia**

_1_

**Chaos**

_**-**_

_**Bardi Castle 9:56 a.m.**_

There was almost no thinking involved.

The first kill was swift, as were all the others after it. Bella stole lives without remorse, without pity for her former race. Her demons wouldn't allow room in her soul for such weak emotions. She saw vividly in crimson, colors blurred together in bloody disarray.

Kale watched from the sidelines, his own hunger bubbling to the surface. Thankfully, Declan and Avery were not present, because they would surely be fighting Isabella for a piece of the bounty Rue had collected. The blond in question was watching Bella with _more_ than just distaste. It was a deep hatred for the brunette that rooted Rue to her spot. That, and the fact that she had never seen any one vampire reap so many souls in one night.

_I guess going without a snack for eleven months can do that to you_, she thought fleetingly, her eyes widening as Bella devoured another woman. The screams were almost too much by now, even for a bloodthirsty killer such as Rue. They swept through the halls of the castle, forever haunting them, perpetually casting them into disenchantment.

Finally, what seemed like eternity later, Bella lifted her head from the throat of a salesman, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her trench coat. As the sun rose through the stained glass windows, Bella cast her eyes towards them, feeling the colorful sunlight glisten off her skin. Blue's and green's skipped on her flesh like an age old dance, gliding across the perfect planes of her face, and along the length of her body.

It was the sun that had made her feel beautiful, so long ago. Now, however, it made her feel even more of a monster. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of lingering death, the smell of damned existences. Her madness slowly ebbed away, fading into the back of her mind, ready to rear its true colors, should the need arise.

The whispering in her head came to a soft, hardly perceptible murmur. Her personality, her soul, though tainted and impure with recent sin, washed through her veins. Hope budded inside her.

_Maybe I'm not so lost after all._

_**-**_

_**Serpentine Ridge, 5;45 p.m.**_

The steady breathing of the animal died away, the heartbeat fading into a void of nonexistence. A pale hand released the neck of the now, deceased bear. Teeth, sharp as razors dug into flesh; sweet, rouged liquid flowing listlessly into the mouth of a god.

Edward Cullen pulled away from his prey, his eyes not lightening to the usual honey that they would after a filling meal. Instead, they stayed the dark, muddied ebony that had been his usual since eleven months previous. _Black for mourning, isn't it?_

A presence lingered behind him, and Edward rose from his knees, his head barely moving to the side to acknowledge his sibling. Emmett swallowed—after all these months, it was still difficult to look upon the tortured face of his brother. His brother, who had been days from marriage, days from bliss, only to have it all ripped away from him at the last possible moment.

Now, his wife was murdered, and their chances of revenge were dismal. If they went back to Italy, they would all die.

The whole family knew that Edward was only living off a promise. Alice felt not one shred of guilt for making him remain in this world. Bella would have wanted it that way.

"Edward," Emmett murmured now, "are you finished?"

The other brother turned fully, dark eyes connecting with the lighter, more optimistic orbs of Emmett.

"I'm done," he growled, his voice a low, monotone.

Alice burst through the trees then, Jasper hot on her heels, laughter echoing in spirals around them. They stopped before their two brothers, and Alice shrieked as Jasper's arms wound around her waist before he effortlessly lifted her from the damp ground. They kissed, softly, oblivious to the two pairs of eyes on them.

Edward looked away, feeling the familiar pang in his chest of whenever his siblings decided to show affection towards each other. As Rosalie came through the trees, she took one look at Alice and clicked her tongue, motioning for Emmett to follow her back towards their car. Edward zipped past them, and the familiar roar of his engine was heard as he sped away from the mountains. Rosalie stopped to sit on a fallen log, both mentally exhausted and somewhat depressed.

"Rose?"

Alice stepped carefully through the underbrush, one hand running softly through her sister's hair. Jasper and Emmett stood off to the side, having their own hushed conversation.

"He seems to be getting worse."

Alice's eyes flickered away from Rosalie, feeling the ever present reminder of guilt sway in her stomach. In truth, she had been having the jumbled visions again, the same ones she'd had when Bella had been stolen from them and taken to Italy. She had never discovered who or what had the ability to put a block so strong on her power, but every time she received a premonition—it was as if someone was placing a foggy lens over her eyes.

The hazy images contained no solid hint of Bella. Could she be alive, well even? Was she still in trouble, still threatened by the danger Kale presented…?

_No,_ she shook her head; _I_ _saw her die._

Bella was _not_ coming back.

"There's nothing we can do, Rose" Emmett's voice brought Alice back from her small trance, "he's lost his everything.

The blonde's eyes closed desolately and she exhaled, "I can't even begin to imagine—begin to _experience_ what he's going through."

Jasper stepped forward from his place leaning gently on a drooping weeping willow. His face was gaunt, tired from Edward's emotional tumult the last few months. He could feel every wave of guilt, every burst of anger, even every shred of agony that Edward had to endure. Alice's guilt and regret was just an extra bonus to put up with. He imagined she felt remorseful for being the sole cause Edward chose to stay with them.

"He's angry," Jasper murmured, "so incredibly angry at himself."

Emmett smiled bitterly, "He's Edward."

Alice cast her eyes heavenward, "No," she murmured, "not anymore."

_**-**_

_**Cullen Home 7:15 p.m**._

_She laughed breathily, rolling over on her side to face him. There was hardly space between them, and her honeysuckle breath caressed his lips, sending pleasurable waves along his body. _

_There was something in the way her eyes devoured him completely, body and soul, that made him entirely too infatuated. She was more than an angel, sent to help him bare the fires of his personal hell. She was a goddess, beautiful and strong. _

_Her lips brushed his, like a butterfly's wings dusting gently across his mouth. Her dainty fingertips traced the every dip and curve of his face. Another kiss and he was lost in her saccharine embrace, falling so deeply into her eyes, falling so deeply into love. _

_"Edward," she breathed, her words echoing in his mind like a song, "open your eyes."_

His eyes flew open, and he was staring at the bare space beside him on the couch, watching as dusk sent its earth toned rainbow across his bedroom.

The daydreams plagued him now, wandering into his thoughts like memories never remembered. Bella's face was _stunningly_ haunting—from the flush of her ivory cheeks, to the ruby fullness of her lips. It was all he could think about, all the solitude of his mind could conjure in his willing seclusion.

_Edward?_

Esme's 'voice' called to him from downstairs, and he sat up on the couch. Pressing the STOP button on his stereo, he took the stairs two at a time.

Edward found his surrogate mother sitting in the living room, flicking casually through one of Rosalie's _Cosmopolitan_'s. Her long fingers stilled on the page and she glanced up at him.

_How was hunting?_

"Satisfying," he answered, taking a seat on the armchair in front of her.

She examined him, much as a worried mother would when her son refused to share conversation over dinner, or disclose the dismal plunge of his life. Edward was as much a son to Esme as her own little boy had been, and his state troubled her.

"You hardly talk to Carlisle or I anymore," she whispered, the darkness of encroaching night casting eerie shadows over her face, "we're worried about you, Edward."

"I'm fine," he said, trying to keep the growl from his tone.

She pursed her lips, "Stop _hiding_," she demanded, exhaustion creeping into her voice, "you don't always have to be the hero."

"What would you like me to say?" he asked, his attitude taking on bitter quality, "I'm perfectly fine, Esme. There's nothing more."

She shrugged her shoulders, her lips growing thinner as she continued to press them together, "It's one thing to lose someone, Edward," she murmured slowly, "but it's another thing entirely to let them go," she sighed, smiling cautiously, "I'm not saying to forget Bella, but do you really think she'd want to see you like this? You're hardly sentient, and so _hollow_. She _loved_ you, Edward. She wouldn't want--."

"Stop." He demanded, closing his eyes, "What she wanted was not…" he motioned around, "_this._ She was… _stupid_ to love me. I got her killed," he laughed sourly, "don't tell me to let her go, because I just… I _can't_."

Esme shook her head at him, and sat back into the couch—completely silent. Edward nodded at her, walking slowly towards the front door. Moonlight flooded in through the open entryway, and illuminated his mother's fair skin, "I'll be back."

As the door closed, and darkness consumed her again, Esme stared pensively at where Edward had been sitting, "Will you?"

**-**

**_Bardi Castle, 10:02 a.m._**

"I've killed someone," Bella breathed, taking a deep breath, and feeling her stomach churn in revolt.

"Actually," Rue chimed in, hopscotching between corpses, "I'd say about a _dozen_ someone's."

"_Shut up_," Kale snapped, looking towards the two, large ebony doors at the head of the room. They slid open slowly; revealing the unstoppable duo. Declan and Avery were brothers, imperishable and conniving as they come.

Bella froze, dread bubbling to the surface of her emotional pool. Declan stopped mid stride as well.

_Creator and created._

Declan's shock faded faster than Bella's and a smirk found its way onto his lips.

"Who let the little minx out of her cage?" he sneered, eyes drifting in mock accusation to Kale. Bella dug her fingernails into her palms, withholding a snarl. Avery's quick and clever eyes caught the action of her digits and he laid an advisory hand on his brother's shoulder, "Careful," he chided, "she doesn't seem quite tame yet."

Declan looked back at Isabella, a whole new level of amazement in his burgundy eyes. "Not tame, hmm?" He took a step toward her, and a threatening, unrestrained sound ripped from the back of her throat. It was foreign to her, the predatory defenses her body began to prepare when she felt threatened.

_Animal_, her mind taunted her, almost as openly as the brothers were, _Murderer._

"I'm n_ot_ an animal," she said, her voice; strangely smooth to her ears, "and I'm perfectly tame."

Declan mocked her with his suave smile as he peered uninterestedly around the room, "It looks like some kind of animal attack to _me_," he sniped, nudging a mangled body with his foot, "what are you, Isabella, if not an animal? You _surely_," he stressed, stepping nose to nose with her, "aren't _human_ any more."

Anger rose within Bella, of a voltage she'd never experienced before. Her instincts seemed to be driven on pure revenge, and untainted rage.

"Shut up," she snarled, intensely low, "_you_ are the reason I'm this way."

He crossed his arms over his chest haughtily, "I never once said I wasn't proud."

She was in front of Declan in an instant, and for a moment, he was besotted by the fresh, vivacious intensity of her scarlet eyes. The trance was broken when she leapt at him, both of them tumbling to the ground with epic noise. Rue advanced, but Avery steadied her with his hand enclosed around her forearm.

"Don't involve yourself, sister _dear_," he drawled, fixing her with a stony glare. She huffed, but hardly fought against his hold. Declan and she had been falling off lately. Why risk herself for him?

Bella pinned Declan, her newly acquired strength, luckily enough, overpowering his. She bent closer to him as her legs straddled his waist, chocolate hair falling in lustrous waves to the floor beside his head.

"I'm not an animal," she whispered scratchily. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, both of them engaged in a silent staring contest. Neither moved, and neither breathed until Kale intruded on their unspoken feud.

"Bella," he demanded firmly, "come with me, won't you?"

She gradually let her eyes fall to Kale, and he tried a reassuring smile. Her legs loosened their grip on the older brother, releasing him from her snake-like hold, and rose to her feet. Her movements were feline, much like she remembered Victoria, and she was ever the more graceful than she had once been.

Following Kale, like a scolded child she shot one, last look of contempt towards Declan.

He wiped the blood of his last meal from his arm, where Bella's nails had dug deeply into his skin.

"Guess I'll be seeing you later." He deadpanned as the doors closed behind her.

**-**

"Kale?" Bella asked worriedly, following as he led her through passageways she couldn't, for the life of her, remember. They walked quickly, and Bella could tell he was angry by the quickness of his stride, "Where are you taking me?"

He didn't answer, and she didn't expect him to.

Finally, they hurried through an archway, out into an expansive garden that looked out over the mountain top, down into the glimmering ocean. Kale stopped, dead in his tracks, and Bella's chest brushed lightly against his back as she was caught off guard by his untimely arrest.

"What do you remember?"

She looked up, from under her lashes, gaze focusing on his hair blowing in the breeze. With a deep breath, she stepped away from him, putting a more comfortable distance between them. Still, he did not turn around, and Bella knew she couldn't hide any longer.

"I remember everything. It's hazy, but it's there."

"Everything?" he verified, feeling a pang in his heart at the thought of her rekindled adoration to the Cullen boy.

"I remember Edward, if that's what you're getting at," she murmured. Thoughts weaseled their way into her brain, like insecurities with minds of their own. Why hadn't Edward come back for her? Hesitantly, she reached out to touch Kale's shoulder. His claret gaze landed on her, and she licked her lips, "Wh-what happened to them? After…"

His eyes fell to the lush grass, and he scratched the back of his head in procrastination, "You're dead to them, Bella."

"Dead?" she asked, picking up immediately on the underlying guilt of his tone, "what do you mean?"

"When Declan bit you," he whispered, rubbing a pale hand over his face, "your heart completely stopped. It seemed the venom wasn't going to save you. Your transformation took seven days, Bella. We all thought you were dead for some time."

"I _am_ dead!" she screamed, the monsters in her head shouting for revenge. She felt their need for bloodshed again, rise in her like poison coursing through dry veins. Only this time, it wasn't hunger that drove her, it was retribution.

Kale noticed the fire flashing in her eyes, and took a step away from the fuming female, "You were to be cut off from them, regardless!" he reminded her, a futile attempt at taming her beasts.

She snarled, lowering herself into a crouch, "You should have let me die then."

She was on him before he could retaliate, crushing him into a flower bed a few yards away from where they had stood. Her hands pressed deeply into his shoulder, her thumbs boring their way into the skin. Emotionless, she stared down at him as he winced in pain.

"Bella," he whispered, "they had already left by the time we knew you would live. We kept our promise to let them remain alive," he groaned as her lips pursed, and she inserted two more fingers into his skin, "if they had stayed, they would have been ripped apart."

"I didn't ask for an explanation of your deception," she barked.

_Kill him!_ Her mind encouraged her, _Kill him, and you could be free again…_

"Don't make me put you back in that dungeon, Bella." Kale threatened, his hands crawling to latch around her wrists as she wavered from the warning.

"You wouldn't," she hissed, the narrowing of her eyes a blunt challenge.

His grip was vice like as he flipped her over, his own body overpowering hers. He straddled her waist as she struggled in vain against his hold.

"I made your fiancé think you were dead, Bella. I brought you here against your will. Why _wouldn't_ I lock you up for a few more months?"

Her jaw snapped together, and he pushed her deeper into the dirt, the thorns of the rosebush tickling her cheeks.

"Don't question me again," he whispered. Bella could feel the whisper of his lips on hers as he spoke, his cool breath mingling with her own, "I'm the only one you listen to now, Bella."

_When I say jump, you say 'how high'_, she mocked him silently, turning her head to the side to escape the looming ensnarement of his lips. His body crushed hers, and his fingers reached out fiercely to take her chin between his hands. She wriggled beneath him, and his eyes grew darker with the inescapable, ever present lust he had felt for her since day one.

His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to control himself. How easy it would be to kiss those perfect lips of hers, to feel the curves of her body with his hands, as his body was feeling them pressed against it now. How smooth her flesh would feel beneath his fingertips, how sugary sweet her kiss would taste, fused with his.

Kale shook his head, rising from Bella in stoic silence. She lay, shocked, in the bed of roses, her eyes still open in fright.

"Get up," he whispered, "we have much to do, Bella. You have much to forget."

She bit her lip, accepting the hand that Kale stretched out for her. While she walked behind him, her inner monsters shunned for the moment, she trained her eyes on the back of his head.

_I'll_ never_ forget._

_Don't fade away  
_

_My brown-eyed girl  
_

_Come walk with me  
_

_I'll fill your heart with joy  
_

_And we'll dance through our isolation  
_

_Seeking solace in the wisdom we bestow  
_

_Turning thoughts to the here and everafter._

_**-**_

_**How was it? Let me know...** _


	3. Gaia

_God, I am just so sorry. But guess what? Me, and a few friends did a documentary. I've been slaving away over cameras and computers for about a month, and it's finally finished. The production is called 'Flawless', and it pertains to the negative body image portrayed by the media. I'll try to put it up on YouTube, so you can see what stole my attention from this fanfic. Terribly sorry, by the way, but now you have my devout concentration. _

_On with the chapter! _

_-_

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_2_

_**Gaia**_

_-_

_**Cullen Home, 3:05 a.m.**_

Edward came back in the end, but when he walked in the front door of their home, he so wished he had stayed away. Carlisle stood there, Esme beside him, with a slightly worried expression on her face. Alice was seated with Jasper and Rosalie on the longer couch, while Emmett took up a leather love seat all to himself. Without regarding their thoughts, he knew something was wrong. The anxious atmosphere of the room said it all.

His gaze landed back on Carlisle who stood as a pillar of strength for the family. He was the only one in the room whose mask was impassive.

"May I have a word, Edward?" he asked, motioning with two fingers for his first son to follow him. Edward followed, his respect for Carlisle overpowering the small sense of anger he felt at being treated like such a child. He didn't need to be scolded; he needed to be left alone.

As he passed Esme she placed a small hand on his shoulder. He kept walking, without acknowledging her.

The door of Carlisle's office closed behind Edward, and Esme turned towards her other children, indignity implanted into every line of her face. Should she have told Carlisle that she was so desperately worried about Edward, or given it some more time?

_What, another year?_ she contradicted herself, falling gracelessly into an arm chair across from Emmetts'.

"Alice," she whispered, "will he stay?"

The pixie shook her head, letting it fall to her husbands shoulder, "He hasn't decided that yet."

Rosalie sat back in her seat, her frown drawing Emmett's attention, "Hey," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes, "it'll be okay."

"That's the thing, Em," she shook her head tiredly, letting it rest on her hand, "you would think things would go back to normal after all of this. I didn't exactly _love_ Bella, but she was part of our lives regardless," the beauty sighed, looking away from her husband's concerned eyes, "I think I'm realizing a little too late that… that we _need_ her to be a family."

Jasper snorted, "I'm so glad you've finally realized," he spat, not sparing Rosalie a glance. He kept his stoic watch forward, and Alice looked up at him, troubled.

It was amazing, she thought, the influence that one human girl could have on all of them. Alice had learned to cope with loss. She'd learned how to _not_ get attached. When they left Bella the first time, it was hard to smile, hard to not think about her. Now that they had lost her so infinitely, it was hard not to notice the empty spaces she left behind.

Death was amazing. It was the most silent form of grief, of agony, and it affected _everyone_. Alice would never die, however, not really, and she wondered what it was like to do so. What were Bella's last thoughts, last hopes? Did she spare a thought for her family, for her lost aspirations? Did she even feel it coming?

Bella's last words, like a chant in Alice's head were a definite answer. _I'll join you._ So she wasn't expecting death, she was expecting an afterlife, an eternity, a forever to fight for Edward, to gain her freedom.

Alice exhaled, clutching more desperately to her lover. How Edward must feel now, with no one to hold onto.

-

Both pairs of eyes connected, one pair—devoid of emotion, but steely, prepared for something. The other was compassionate, anxious, and so very wise.

"Edward," Carlisle whispered, an ancient grief in his voice, "we haven't spoken since we returned."

Edward looked out the large window of his father's first floor office, "I'd like to keep it that way."

Carlisle was silent for a minute, just examining his first surrogate son. There was something entirely different about his persona. _Survivors guilt_ was the first phrase that popped into his head along with _age_. Though he couldn't physically mature, Edward looked so much older than seventeen. The lilac circles underneath his eyes were a dark violet, and there was a constant frown on his smooth face. No smiles, no mischievous glints in his eyes, no decadent abandon. He wasn't the same Edward that Carlisle had met in 1918.

"You don't recognize me anymore," Edward spoke aloud, his eyes drifting back to his father figure.

Carlisle nodded his head in the negative, "No, I'm afraid I don't, Edward."

"I wonder," Edward murmured, "how you all want me to act now? Is there a certain mold I should fit in to? Because I certainly can't find it. How should I move on with this wretched excuse for a life if all I can hear is your piteous thoughts? Whenever I pass you, whenever your thoughts escape you, they revolve around my state, our future, our _past_. Eleven months of nothing but regret in your heads and you expect this to be simple for me?"

Carlisle sat back in his seat, and Edward almost smiled at the thought he had left another of his family members speechless.

"I don't ask anything of you, Carlisle, and you know I have the greatest respect for you and Esme. But, I'm afraid I can't continue to stay here."

The blond placed one hand on his desk, "Edward," he pleaded, "our family is broken enough. Do you think another one of your rash desertions is what we need?"  
Edward looked down at his hands, "Perhaps not," he conceded, "but it is what _I _need. It's not forever, Carlisle."

"I believe we have a different outlook on the meaning of the word 'forever'."

Edward smiled a bitter smile, "Our views differ on a lot of things," he said, his gaze drawn by the rising sun, "but you are more patient than I. My forever is much shorter than yours. I won't be gone long, I promise."

"You _promise_?" Carlisle repeated, "did you not make a promise to Alice, as well? How should I trust you?"

Edward rose from his seat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He walked slowly to the door, stretching out one, pale hand to grasp the doorknob, "Whether you trust me or not isn't something I can change, but I promise none the less," he sighed, turning back to his father, "I really am sorry, Carlisle, for everything."

The door shut behind his son, and Carlisle let his stare drift to the window Edward had been watching. The sun rose scarlet, casting a bloody glow onto the stretch of grass before them.

_Tragedy._

_-_

_**Volterra, 8:15 pm**_

She had to learn to _cope_. At least, that's what he'd told her.

As she walked through the busy streets of Volterra, where they had relocated earlier this morning, she fumed silently over the subtle demand of regulation. Kale had her on a short, choking leash, and Bella couldn't find it in her to be fond of it.

The smooth aroma of blood drifted in and out of her mind, creating the familiar, foggy haze that she had grown so used to. It had been a few days since her first meal, and already the scent was second nature. It was driving her crazy, the starving demons banging against her rib cage, her brain, her stomach, demanding that she kill something. _Now._

She tried to distract herself from the Siren's Call, remembering Edward—the name hurt as her mind dared to murmur it—as she passed the place where they had collided again, for the first time in months. She remembered his feverish amazement at her presence, how it had felt so good to hold him again, to experience, for once, that _he_ was fascinated by _her_.

A small smile touched her sinful lips, and she relished in how amazing it felt to do so again. Her stride quickened, and she became acutely aware at the shadows moving in the ancient alley ways beside her. They thought she would try to run?

Bella focused on a pair of glowing, ruby irises in the dark, and winked at them. Felix rolled his eyes dismissively, and she could feel his displeasure at having to baby-sit her every move. Would they be able to catch her, she wondered, if she fled now?

Obviously, she wasn't the only rebel with blasphemous thoughts that night.

"Let _go!"_

The brunette whipped her head round, hearing the small whisper with the sharpest of ears.

Two, mindless guards of the New Order had, between them, a small girl of about sixteen. She was wildly gorgeous, and obviously a vegetarian, from the golden tint to her otherwise black irises. Her reddish gold curls wrapped like tendrils around her face and neck, some catching at the edge of her mouth. She was almost as tiny as Jane had been, but had a slight age advantage on the little, extinct vampire.

Bella's expression twisted in to one of distain. She took the steps forward that would put her in front of the struggling trio. The red head stopped writhing, glaring up at Bella as she slumped in the hold of her superiors.

"What's going on?" Bella snarled, finally deciding to abuse her authority, and use Kale's affection as influence. The burlier of the two guards, whom she failed to recognize, slightly released his hold on the tiny vampire.

"She got out," he grunted, "Master Kale has ordered she be brought back," he smirked down at the girl, "by force, if necessary."

Bella felt something akin to annoyance begin to bubble up at the the surface of her collected exterior. If she were to lose control of her temper here, with so many people around, it could be deadly. And that, alone, was an understatement.

"I'll take her," Bella told them sternly, hoping they would heed her. A blank look took over the guards' face and they shared a glance. The bigger shrugged his shoulder, roughly pushing the red head toward Isabella.

"Good luck with _that_," he mumbled, motioning for his companion to follow him back into the night.

Bella looked down, smoothing back the hair from the girl's eyes. The red head collected her breath, shoving forcefully away from her savior in the black cloak.

"Who are you?" _she wasted no time in meaningless 'thank you's'_, Bella mused, _she got right to the point._

"Bella," she smiled in what she hoped was a warm manner. Socializing was still something she had to work on, "and you are…?"

The young woman stood a little straighter, regarding Bella through narrowed, suspicious eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the girl seemingly weighing the options in her head. To be friendly or not to be friendly?

Bella sighed, running a nervous hand through her hair. The girl smiled mischievously, and nodded to herself.

"My name is Lorraine," she stuck out her hand, "Ray for short."

Bella retracted her hand slowly, "What are you doing here?"

"Escaping," Ray replied disinterestedly, "or trying to, at least. You?"

Bella chuckled, casting her eyes back into the shadows of the opposite alley. Through the crowd of people, she could still see their hawk's eyes measuring her every breath.

"I'm afraid I'm under house arrest," she confessed, an inch of sadness in her voice, "I'm a prisoner."

"Oh…" Lorraine said slowly, "you're _that_ Bella."

The brunette rolled her eyes, "You've… _heard_ of me?"

"Oh, yes," Ray laughed, relief in her lilt, "you're why _I'm_ here."

-

_**Volterra Underground,11:11 pm**_

"You left her unsupervised?"

Nathan, a lowly New Order guard lowered his head, "No, sir," he explained slowly, "Bella's guard is still above."

Kale sat back in his seat, "Felix?"

"I believe so."

The blond leader of the New Order dismissed his servant, cracking his neck as the door closed. _Alone again_, he chided to himself, _lovely_.

Loneliness, however, was the least of Kale's worries. Rue and Declan had been constant bothers, like members of a royal court vying for the crown. But what a burden this crown held. To be a leader of a race that should have never existed… it was both a curse _and_ a gift. The vampires in the States especially were starting to become major pests.

_We shouldn't have let them have a free for all in the first place. _

It was true, now that they had realized, no rules meant no order. Without order, there was only chaos. The human race was certainly in for mass genocide; an epidemic that was already beginning to develop in certain places. Last week in Brazil, three hundred people had been massacred inside of a theater, and only days after that, thirty more were killed off just south of California.

Kale sighed, letting his forehead fall to his outstretched palm.

As if trying to rule an entire species wasn't enough, he had the matter of his heart to consider as well. If he had Bella by his side, everything would be masked by beauty, everything would seem so much easier. He was a fool to think she would forget that her heart bore penance to someone else, however. Without so much as a bit of effort from him, she would love the Cullen boy for the rest of her eternity.

He couldn't have that.

The door at the head of the room opened, and Kale was drawn from his musings by the voice that haunted his days.

"You were asking about me?"

Bella stepped into the room fully, peeling off her black cloak, and revealing her sinful form to her _new master_. She wore a sun dress of the the finest Italian silk, something Kale had been satisfied about when he ordered Rue to purchase a new wardrobe for their prisoner. It fell elegantly to her knees, and scooped low on her bust.

Now, Kale regretted ever approving the errant piece of apparel.

"Of course," he answered just as softly, "can't have you running off on me, love."

Bella's eyes flashed to his as she proceeded towards him, "I told you," she warned, "don't call me that."

His smile twisted one corner of his mouth, "Shall I call you darling, instead?"

Her grimace was sickly, "Oh, _yes_," she drawled, "because I _so_ prefer to be your _darling_."

He laughed, a sound that filled the room. She just stood stoically in front of him, resisting the urge to slaughter and love it.

"I met someone very interesting today, Kale."

Her words stopped his indulgences and he straightened, still grinning, "Any one I know?"

"Yes," she spat, "another of your _prisoners_."

Kale clenched his teeth. He had planned for the new addition to his coven to meet Bella when she was more inclined to his cause. Now, both rebels had, he was almost sure, bonded over their rivaling dislike for him.

"You mean Lorraine," he deadpanned, chipping away at the wood from the mantle. The fire was dying now, and the room became almost pitch black.

Bella just bobbed her head, and Kale winced.

"And?"

"Why are you keeping her here?" Bella barked, "She's done nothing wrong."

"Have you seen her eyes? She's a vegetarian, an _atrocity_, and she was careless in hiding her nature."

"Are we not all atrocities, then?" she mocked him, "are we not all bad at hiding our disgusting nature? You're awful at making up excuses, Kale."

He regarded her coolly, "She's here because she directly violated our ways."

"So there it is, then," she replied, her voice losing the harsh edge it had acquired, "all she's done wrong is nothing at all."

Kale turned violently, and was before Bella in two, long strides, "You have a true death wish, is that it? You try my temper, Isabella, as if it has no limits," he shook her, a little too roughly, "it's not long before you push too hard."

"If it means death, if it means I'd be away from you, I'd _gladly_ accept it," she snarled, her eyes turning cold and unfeeling. Kale's expression hardened, and he bent his head lower to hers. The anger in Bella's ayes slipped away, and she took full realization of what exactly was about to happen.

She had never kissed another man, besides Edward, and had never planned on doing so. It was obvious that Kale was deadly attractive. His blond hair, his dangerous aura, his roguish looks. He was much more than handsome. He was beautiful.

"Let me kiss you," he whispered, almost passionately, almost as if he feared her rejection. She began to shake her head, to decline, but Kale was already dazed by her exquisiteness. She stretched her neck back as far as it would go, but her pursuer was driven. He believed himself in love, after all.

"Let me kiss you," he repeated, in the short milliseconds before his sweet lips touched down upon hers.

She did not deny him.

_-_

_Far away  
The ship is taking me far away  
Far away from the memories  
Of the people who care if I live or die _

Starlight  
I will be chasing the starlight  
Until the end of my life  
I don't know if it's worth it anymore

-

_Oh, short chapter again. I know. I had this chapter written already, but it was crap, so it's been disposed of. I happen to like this one. Well, review lovelies. For me, please? _

_Next Chapters; _

We'll see the rest of the conversation with Lorraine, learn more about her.

Edward will go through some serious stages of denial, depression, and finally, anger.

The other Cullens try to cope with their failing family.

Jacob Black becomes a character unique for the third story.


	4. Nox

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_3_

_**Nox**_

_**Italian Dictionary**_;

Non li ho visti là _- I didn't see you there. _

Fretta _– Hurry_

_- _

_Last Time;_

"_Oh…" Lorraine said slowly, "you're _that_ Bella."_

_The brunette rolled her eyes, "You've… heard of me?"_

_"Oh, yes," Ray laughed, relief in her lilt, "you're why _I'm_ here."_

-

Bella furrowed her brows, "How so?"

Suddenly, very aware of the probing eyes around them, Ray motioned a little farther into the alleyway. Bella followed the intriguing ginger into the shadows, and watched as Ray leaned against the cobblestone wall.

"Kale," Lorraine began distantly, "is someone I've known for a very long time. He and I, we're like pleasant… enemies. We get along rather well, but live on opposite sides of a disagreement. My ambrosia is that of animals, and he finds his pleasures in a more _human_ environment," she looked up at Bella through dark eyelashes, "Lately, though, Kale and I differ completely."

Bella leaned on the opposite side of the alley, stunned, "How can you support what he's doing now?" she whispered, "how can you watch all the killings and remain submissive?"

"Then what--?"

"I don't." Ray said strongly, her tone taking a defensive stance.

"I came here to talk some sense into him, but Kale had other plans. He knew of my arrival long before I even arrived, and it seemed that I was just what you needed."

Bella shook her head, feeling the story Ray was telling become even more complex than she had originally thought, "I don't understand."

"Being a hunter, not a murderer, I'm a little more civilized than most. He wanted me to help you to tame your beast. He says you call them your monsters."

"Monsters," Bella agreed gently.

Ray smiled, "Well, I _do_ want to help you, Bella, but not with your inner havoc."

"What then?" Bella breathed.

One word. It was all it took.

"Escape."

-

Jacob Black had finally come of age in a tribe where no one was respected until they at least reached the age of eighteen. It was his birthday, and there was only one person who hadn't shown up to celebrate.

_Bella. _

It wasn't as if he had expected her to come. What had happened to her? He could _try_ and believe the story Charlie had fed him in disappointed remorse only a few months prior. He remembered that day clearly, the day he'd decided to swallow his pride, and beg for Bella's forgiveness—even if it did mean betraying his pack.

Friendship, _love_, like that didn't come around so often. If Sam and the boys were really his brothers, they'd forgive him eventually. So he was stood in front of Bella's house that morning, flowers at hand, sincerely hoping that the blood sucking leech was off somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

Only, there was no scent of Bella at all.

He'd knocked on the door softly, to be greeted by a very bedraggled looking Charlie in a ratty old robe and a five o'clock shadow from many days previous.

"Yeah?" he'd grunted, squinting through the rain, "Jake?"

"It's me, Charlie," Jacob said, following the police chief into the house. He stood, drip drying, on the welcome mat, and Charlie turned to face him. The older man's eyes drifted downwards to the bouquet of flowers that had been slightly drowned out by the rain.

"She's gone you know." Jacob hardly had time to register this before he saw tears forming in Charlie's eyes, "eloped with the Cullen boy."

The werewolf could have sworn he heard his heart shattering, and the pieces screaming that they'd never be able to regroup.

So much for best friends.

Now, as he stood on the windy, cold cliffs of La Push, Jacob could feel the familiar pang in his heart as he thought of her. Behind him, people were celebrating, not noticing the birthday boy wasn't in sight. It was too dark to see your hand in front of your face, anyway.

He didn't believe the bullshit about eloping. Cullen had probably turned his poor, sweet, innocent Bella into a leech himself. He'd stolen her. And the rest of them? The good doctor and his gorgeous wife? They'd probably just sat back and watched.

A low growl came from Jacob's throat, and faded away into the wind.

"Hey."

He turned slightly, his nostrils widening to take in the scent he hadn't noticed before. It was Embry and Quil, come to see what was bothering him.

"H--."

Another scent assaulted his nostrils, strong and sickly sweet. His heart froze, and his spine became rigid.

"No way," Embry breathed. Sam was by their side in seconds, along with the rest of the pack, Paul and Jared.

"Let's go," Sam ordered.

"We're not allowed on their land," Embry pointed out, "the treaty?"

"Screw the treaty," Jacob growled, already pacing down the beach, getting far enough away from his tribe so that he could morph, "this is personal."

-

They found the leech sitting on the Cullen's old porch, his auburn hair being grasped at by his hands. What had brought him back here, all by himself? And most importantly, where was Bella?

"She's gone," Edward whispered, reading Jacob's thoughts like book. The boy was always easy to read. Jake reacted immediately, growling, and stepping forward with his fists clenched.

"What do you _mean_?"

Sam placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Jacob relaxed, if only a little.

Edward took his head from his hands, and his turmoil was evident on his face, "I mean she's gone, _dog_. As in, _they killed her_," the vampire took a shaky breath; "Bella is dead."

"Liar," Jacob spat, coming to stand directly before Edward.

He was a few inches shorter, but Edward stood anyways, prepared for Jacob, welcoming death.

"I owe this to you, I suppose," Edward muttered, "Bella loved you too." Their eyes connected, and Edward took a step back, "We left Forks after we heard of a threat from the new rulers of our race. I'm sure you've noticed the surplus of killings?"

"We've noticed," Sam growled, leaning on the railing of the stairs.

"Well, the old leaders were taken care of. The new ones believe in a more—_open_—policy. Their greed led them to Bella, and we left here in search of somewhere safe. It was useless. Only a day after we arrived in Chicago they came for her. I—I couldn't protect her from them," he sighed, looking back up at Jacob, "When my family and I went to Italy to get her back, they proposed an ultimatum. Either Bella joined them as a vampire, or my family and I were to be killed. She chose servitude."

"So then she should be alive." Jacob snarled, fisting the front of Edward's shirt in his hand. Edward remained impassive.

"When Declan bit her, it was already too late. She was too far beyond mutilated to live, and she died right before my eyes."

Jacob clenched his jaw to keep from crying. Mutilated? He heard what Edward was unable to say… that they had tortured her first, that she was in so much pain that not even a vampire's elixir could save her.

"This would have never happened," he whispered, "if you'd have left her alone from the beginning."

Edward looked down at his shoes, "I don't deny it."

"So it's your fault that she's dead."

"Don't think I haven't been blaming myself."

Jacob took the first hit. His punch landed straight in Edward's jaw, and it shook the vampire. It was hard to resist the urge to morph, but Jacob stood firm, He wanted to do this the human way.

"Stop!"

Sam's voice was like a trigger in Jacob's mind and his actions were halted.

"Jacob," the elder advised carefully, an image of Emily flashing in his mind, "let's be rational here."

"Fuck rationality!" Jacob swore, the force of his eyes rivaling that of Edward's, "you killed her!"

"No," Sam said sternly, his voice raising an octave or two, "no he didn't, Jake. But someone _did_, someone who _deserves_ your anger. You know… you _know_ Bella wouldn't want this."

The raven-haired teen settled back into his skin, his muscles loosening, and the grievances finally breaking through his stony loathing.

"No," he agreed, "you're not even worth it."

Edward looked away, up into the night sky. _No, I'm not._

-

Bella's eyes snapped open, and locked with Kale's. As if the moment had come rushing up to greet her reality, she ripped her lips from his, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

_Betrayal. _

She felt her heart sink as she stared at Kale, a sick, tainted feeling seeping into her stomach. There was something about this ultimate form of loathing, of unfaithfulness, that she found completely nauseating.

"Kale," she gasped, "I _love_ Edward."

"And I love _you_," Kale rebutted, pleading with the brunette through ruby eyes, "please understand, Bella."

"No!" she screamed, "I love _him_, no one else!" She shuddered, wondering if maybe Edward would ever do this to _her_.

_No,_ her mind argued, _he's much too good for that._

Kale turned his head to the side, feeling as if he'd been smacked, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, as if he'd been _right_ when he swore never to love.

"Fine," he growled, "get out of my sight, Isabella."

She shook her head, grabbing her black trench coat from the chaise, and noisily departing. Outside Kale's large chambers, she stopped, her face scrunching up in anger. Her head turned back to the door, and she bit down on her lip, "Gladly."

-

Lorraine waited patiently in the darkness, her probing, jewel like eyes sweeping the street for any sign of Bella. The brunette lifted herself from a sewer drain on the opposite side of the street, hurrying out onto the main road. Night owls bustled by her, laughing joyously in their drunken stupor. A few stopped to give her appreciative glances, shouting compliments to her in slurring Italian.

Bella merely smiled shortly, waving them off as she made haste toward her new companion. Lorraine bit her lip, making sure to keep an eye out for any patch of darkness that was not tranquil, or any flash of burgundy out of the corner of her eye. They were daring escape from Volterra, something never before heard of because no one had ever succeeded—human or _not_.

"Bella," Lorraine stressed, "you have to tell me—_now_. Can you do this?"

Bella hesitated, letting Ray's words work their way into her mind. _Could_ she do this? There were so many things she hadn't factored into her plan of escape—like the assuredness of a plane ride full of human blood, the consequences of her disappearance, and the brutal wrath of Kale when he learned of her departure…

Could she survive, and manage to keep everyone she loved out of harms way? Could she leave, all the while wondering if Edward would accept her new self? And what about Lorraine?

"Bella?"

Nodding her head firmly, she decided that she could take whatever it was Kale had to dish out. She would greet his retribution with open arms, shielding everyone who stood behind her. If it meant only a few short months, days, _hours_ with Edward, she would gladly compromise.

"I can do this."

Ray smiled warily, "Never thought you couldn't," she laughed quietly, "now look, I don't know what it is you're going back to, but I can see in your eyes that it's worth it," from the folds of her cloak, she drew a small, white envelope. Plane tickets, agendas, and a small, folded letter were inside, and Bella held them fast to her chest.

"You're coming with me," Bella pleaded, "I thought…"

Ray shook her head, cutting off Bella from her desperation, "We won't make it, not together," Ray said softly, "I can only see you off Bella, I can't make the journey with you."

"But you'll be killed!" the brunette cried as loud as a whisper would allow, "if Kale finds out you helped me, he'll be merciless."

Ray smirked, "Don't worry about me."

It was almost an immediate reaction; Bella felt selfishness overtake her. How could she just leave Ray here, alone, defenseless against the rage of an _entire_ coven?

"No."

Ray cast an impatient look over Bella's shoulder, "If you won't leave for _me _Bella, leave for whatever's waiting outside these walls."

_Edward._

Looking away from the eyes that mirrored those of her lover's, she sighed, "Be safe."

With a brush of wind, Bella was running.

It would be only seconds before she was being chased. The airport, she knew, wasn't far from Volterra. As inhuman footsteps reached her ears, Bella pushed a little further, letting her feet guide her towards the ancient exit of the city. If she ran fast enough, she'd make it.

_Stop following me_, she thought ruefully, closing her eyes as she finally passed the overhang, _let me go… _

Miraculously, and Bella hardly knew how she escaped the extensive grasp of detainment, she made it to the airport, with only a minute left to spare. The attendant was closing one of the heavy, steel doors, muttering about a particularly smelly passenger. Bella appeared behind her, already holding her breath from the sweet aroma of blood.

"O," the woman jumped, her hand flying to her chest, "Non li ho visti là,"

Bella shook her head, thrusting the ticket towards the woman, and letting her unusual eyes play their powers of persuasion. The attendant looked back at the remaining opening door while she ripped Bella's ticket on the perforated lines.

"_Fretta,"_ the woman stressed, nodding urgently to the door. Bella wasted no time, going a little faster than she should have to reach the doors before they closed. She slid past the flight attendant who was reaching for the safety handle, and sat down in the only empty seat on the plane.

She had escaped one hell, and immersed herself into another.

Grasping at the bosom of her black cloak, she secured her hands. If only she could distract her hunger in such a way. She had once been told, by Carlisle, she imagined, that newborn vampires were the most insatiable creatures when it came to blood. There was no limit to the amount they could consume; a sense of being full meant nothing to them.

For Bella, and it perplexed her, she was about five times worse. She was already a year old, but still the hunger was the only thing on her mind. If it wasn't present in every thought, it was the basis of her subconscious. If she could still sleep, she would dream of bloodshed and slaughtering.

There were hardly any children on this flight, she noticed with relief. Their curiosity would have led Bella to be a little more than friendly with a few of them. Thankfully, only a handful of people were casting her admiring looks, while most were either asleep, or too exhausted to pay any attention to their surroundings.

As the plane finally lifted into the air, Bella sighed, not bothering to draw back a breath. The smells would be too much right now. She let her mind wander instead to her return. Edward's face swam before her closed eyelids, and excitement coursed through her dry veins.

What it would be like to feel him touch her again, to taste the essence of his lips? She couldn't remember much, about the finite details of their relationship, only that it was euphoria to be in his presence. Did they fight a lot, or were they always at peace? What was it like to share conversation with him? What would it feel like; she wondered the most, to feel whole again?

-

They touched down in New York, Bella and a few other people who had been on her plane, traveled quickly to gate 4A, where they boarded their final flight to Chicago. O'Hare airport was crowded, and the people around the vampiress were shivering like mad as soon as the sliding doors opened to the outside. She cast amused glances at them all, before finally taking a breath. Out there in the open, it was a little easier to concentrate on things besides blood.

The soft, almost indiscernible scent of moisture littered the air as snow besieged her hair and skin. She began to move towards the highway, trusting in her nose to guide her home.

_Home,_ the world filled her with both a sense of safety, and one of uncertainty.

The Cullens were so civilized, so amazingly adapted to the sweet temptation of a blushing woman or an exhilarated man. And here she was, standing a good distance from a crowd, yet they all called to her like singers.

She was _weak_.

-

_I'm heavily broken  
And I don't know what to do  
Can't you see that I'm choking  
And I can't even move  
When there's nothing left to say  
What can you do  
I'm heavily broken  
And there's nothing I can do_

-

_Sorry for the short chapter, once again. I mean, it just happens that way. I won't say much here except for the fact that if you happen to like Harry Potter, and my writing, then I made a new fic called __**Wicked.**__ It's a SiriusOC fic, and it's pretty amazing so far, I must say. The link is in my profile, obviously. _

_Oh, and I may have moved Jacob's birthday up a few months. By now, as I'm sure you've realized, Bella would be nineteen. But hey, what's a year or two between friends, right?_


	5. Important

_**Okay, so I don't usually do author's notes, but this one is important;**_

_I've been presented with the opportunity to publish a book. I've worked hard on it, and not too many people my age actually publish their books, so I'm gonna go with it. Hopefully, you'll all love my original stuff as much as you love my fan fiction. Please bear with me during this… I beg you. _

_Updates will be a little slower, but the story __**will**__ be updated. I might take a long break after __**Utopia**__, but the third story is going to be done too. Don't worry, I'm only in the beginning stages of publishing, and so I still have time on my hands. Just wanted to give you a heads up about why my stuff might be lagging. Thank you though, for your support and your reviews. _

_Thanks Again, _

_**DreamMeDelirious**_


	6. Hades

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

4

_**Hades**_

_So, did anyone catch Bella's power in the last chapter? Heh, if you didn't, don't worry. It was fairly well hidden. _

_-_

Her nose led her to a forest, not far from a small river, where the animals had fallen quiet upon her arrival. Obviously, they were used to being hunted, and remained silent in a wasted attempt at self-preservation. There were traces of a forgotten struggle on the moss covered floor before her, and Bella gave a quick, shallow sigh of relief—she had found them.

The faint trickling of the nearby brook set her senses aware and she opened herself to hear the complete soundtrack of broad forest. It was inviting, to be in a natural surrounding, the animals not tempting her in any way. She had diminished her own innocence by taking the essence from a human, and the blood of animals would awaken no trace of provocation within her monsters. They were silenced for now—but if a lonely hiker chanced upon her…

The brunette shook her head, readjusting her focus to the trail of vampire scent. The Cullens, she imagined, hadn't been hunting for a few days—as their aroma was dwindling. She followed it stealthily, wondering when, exactly, she had had time to become such an excellent tracker. Did it come with the territory of being 'unimaginably special'? Or was it just basic instinct for one of her kind?

As her form finally broke through the trees, she felt a murmur of a memory trying to break through the block on her recollections. The lawn before her looked so familiar, and as she swept her gaze up the front walk, the house startled her into stupor. It was most definitely home.

The smells were stronger here, and even beyond that, the atmosphere felt so incredibly _right_. She moved, still stealthily, towards the gravel of the front pathway, and stopped as her feet met the crunch of it. Bella sighed softly, her insecurities rushing up to meet her. Would they accept her here, where the soul rationale of their familiarity was to support in their fast of the human blood? Would she be re-accepted into a tight-knit circle that had last seen her as the inconsequential, blundering human that was constantly requiring their protection? Would Edward have moved on to something better? Something (or some_one_, her mind spited her) _more_ special?

She continued her walk of doom, feeling the pressure of a looming rejection build in her chest.

_My God, can I do this?_

-

"Someone's here."

Jasper looked up from the repetitive television show—watching as Alice traipsed down the stairs. Her hair was wet from an interrupted shower, and she had a silky robe tied about her thin frame. Her husband raised his eyebrows—his gaze flicking momentarily to the closed curtains and then back to his wife.

"I don't think so, sweetie," he muttered distractedly, "I can't hear a living thing out there."

He heard the dry movement of her throat as she swallowed, "That's because she's not supposed to be alive."

The corner of his mouth quirked downwards as he shot her a bemused frown, but was cut off from his retort by the eerie ring of the doorbell. Other family members appeared on the stairs immediately. None of the townspeople knew they were there, and it's not like any of them had called for Pizza. None of the Cullens had heard anyone approach—none except for Alice who had _Seen_, rather than heard the presence.

"Right," Jasper whispered, coming to stand next his wife. Carlisle loped elegantly down the stairs, buttoning his shirt back up, and shooting an irritated, apologetic smile at his lovely companion atop the stairs.

"I'm home," Edward announced weakly, stepping tiredly into the dim light of the foyer. Carlisle smiled, placing a welcoming hand on his first sons shoulder, and guiding him farther into the house, "for good, this time."

"Edward?" Alice asked dazedly, her body falling against Jasper with defeat, "but I could have sworn that she…"

The auburn haired vampire stiffened as he devoured her thoughts, silently berating himself to wait until morning before coming home, "You know as well as I that that is impossible."

"I thought we had established that _anything_ was possible?"

Time stopped. At least, Edward could have sworn that the world had stilled on its axis, and maybe, _just maybe_, the sun was about to explode into a million little stars. The voice was different, a slightly smoother lilt to it, but still as beautiful as the first time she'd spoken in his presence. His whole body froze as he tried to turn, for his heart couldn't stand the disappointment, the further abuse, if it _wasn't_ her.

Everyone else in the room was staring, their faces blank as their thoughts, at the threshold. Alice's was the only face that held any emotion, and it was horrified surprise.

Finally, a deep sigh escaped him, and he turned to the door, his eyes cast downwards. Starting with the mud-caked boots, he worked his way up her long legs, to her torso, from her collarbone to her face that had been carved by the divine.

Her smile was intoxicating as it spread, like a dream, across her face.

And yet, there was doubt in his heart. Everyone had seen Bella die. And he especially, had felt the physical blow of her exodus.

"I- Isabella?" Alice whispered, the full name sounding foreign on her tongue.

The proverbial stranger leaned on the doorframe to the house, her cloak dusting the floor as she moved. The glow of her cherry wood eyes penetrated the shadows coming from the night behind her, and it cast a demonic aura about her. Bella had grown to radiate the threat of danger as of late.

"Of course, Alice," she breathed softly, her gaze never leaving that of her estranged lover, "have you forgotten me already?"

"No," Edward grunted, taking a step away from the woman by the door. Hurt crossed her features, but she remained impassive, "Bella's dead. This is Kale's trickery."

"Illusion," Emmett muttered, his relief turning once again to anger, "_bastard_."

Carlisle, however, looked over Bella with an air of neutrality, "I'm not so sure. Bella?"

She redirected her gaze from Edward's pained expression, to the doctor, "What is your step-father's name?"

_Bad call_. She couldn't remember if she tried, and it pained her to think that the one she loved would rip her apart, much easier than he would embrace her, if she were to answer wrong. Her lips opened, but no words came out.

"I," she swallowed hard, looking at each of the Cullens in turn, "I don't remember."

Carlisle's grin was slow, but hesitant, "Alright," he nodded, "do you remember anything at all?"

She lost her pride and dropped her stare to the floor, "I remember my name, and, I _believe_, all of yours. My father, I remember more than my mother. I remember the darkness and the cold in the dungeons of Bardi," she paused, taking a breath, "and I remember Edward. He is most clear."

She looked up at him, hope skittering across the surface of her façade. He stared back, a little light of the same emotion his own topaz eyes, "Bella," he breathed, "please be real."

"I _am_," she said desperately, her voice thick with emotion that she had not dare show inside Italy. To be any semblance of human there, would mean your death, "I'm_ real_, Edward. I'm _really_ here, and my heart has really _broken_ for you. You really did take my soul with you this whole year. And I really _do_ love you…" her voice faded to a whisper, and she licked her lips, forcing back the need to run away. Anything was easier than the facing the reality that he might just not feel the same.

"Please believe me," she pleaded, taking a gentle step toward him. Her monsters were laughing at her show of offhand weakness, and she could almost hear the sound of their chortles inside her head, "please, Edward."

The rest of the family had given them a wide enough breathing space to settle this. If it was Kale, Emmett and Jasper would naturally assist, but if, in the off chance, it were Bella, privacy should be given. Rosalie had to bite her tongue from lashing out atrocities at what she firmly believed was an imposter. At the mention of her brother's name again, from the intruder's lips, however, she snapped.

"Bullshit," she growled, "Bella's _dead_, we all saw it."

Bella turned her steely stare to the blond, "Kale makes you see what you never wish to experience again. He has no control over the goings on of your worst memory, he only replays them," her voice was cold and hard, and had lost its melodic quality, "did you not experience something too dreadful for words when under his influence? Be logical Rosalie. You may harbor hate for me, but I doubt my return would be Hell for you."

Her speech, Edward noticed, as he watched her confront his sister, was so much more sharp and clever. Bella's new confidence and temper was overwhelming, a change he wasn't sure he admired.

Alice choked, a subtle sob coming from her lips, "My god, she's _right_!"

They could all remember last summer—when their lurid recollections had been replayed to them like a live concert with front row seats. Rosalie whipped her head to the side, refusing to look at Bella, and let the brunette see her weakness at remembering her nightmare. She stepped back willingly into Emmett's embrace.

Edward took the step that would close the distance between he and his lost love, threading both of his hands roughly through her hair. She breathed raggedly, her breath fanning across his lips, calling out his own beasts. How many times had he dreamed of her return, if only to hold her like this once more?

"Kiss me," she breathed huskily, leaning further into him.

The moment their lips met, it was all the persuasion needed. There was no kiss as that of true love_. Or so someone had once said,_ Edward mused distractedly as he deepened the embrace between their burning lips. Bella's hands found his waist, and she pulled him closer—wanting to be _one_, to be together as much as space would allow. She'd defy the laws of gravity right now, just to be in the exact same spot as he.

Their lips parted simultaneously, the barriers they had put up in the past, diminished once their tongues collided. He tasted her saccharine essence, and she, his. The nails that had grown a hairs breath longer after her death, dug into his sides, but he felt no pain—it only served to reassure him that she was truly here.

A sigh escaped Bella as their kiss dwindled to a pause, promises of more to come left tingling trails on her lips. They parted with exaggerated slowness, and Edward refused to let go of her any further.

"I missed you…" she hummed underneath her breath, "every single part of me ached for you."

He chuckled lightly—her favorite sound in the world, she recalled—and placed his forehead on hers, "I happen to know exactly what you mean."

"Bella?" Alice murmured hesitantly, feeling slightly selfish for interrupting the lover's embrace. The brunette parted from her mate, peering over his shoulder with great effort, to the tiny pixie coming towards them. Her face lit up with a beaming smile, and she apologetically disentangled herself from Edward. He allowed all of her free, except for a possessive arm about her waist.

Alice rumbled as soon as she hit Bella's chilly hold, "I'm sorry," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry for leaving you there, Bella. I saw you dead, and then, there was no more…"

"Shh," she soothed, "it's not your fault Alice. It's no one's but my own."

The little nymph hugged her sister tighter, the guilt for her reckless abandon still heavy in her chest, "How can you say that?" she whispered, "god, Bella, we should have gone back, if only for… for a body."

"But then where would you be?" Bella laughed without humor, "Just a pile of ashes somewhere…" _just like all those people I killed_. Bella closed her eyes at the memory of the frozen faces, their expressions of horror captured forever on their grey visages.

"You're right," Alice shuddered, "How are you alive, anyhow?"

She pulled away from Bella slowly, looking up at her through large eyes.

Edward's arm grew possessive around her waist, and Bella looked toward the far wall in remembrance. A shadow swept across her angelic features, darkening it into an unfamiliar grimace.

"My transformation took seven days as my body tried to adapt the venom into my bloodstream. Kale said… he mentioned that it was the most disgusting display he'd ever seen—that in all the transformations he'd witnessed, there weren't any that could compare in grisliness," she paused, trying to remember her rebirth more than a year ago, "when I became aware again, I was already in the dungeons. The fiery battle in my body had stopped, and I was ravenous."

She took a deep breath, looking back over at the Cullens, "He had me confined for eleven months, starving and… wild. I was only allowed out, to the feeding room in Volterra when I promised him not to run."

For a moment, it would seem as if none of them would ever talk again, "And you killed many when you emerged from the dungeons."

Jasper's whisper was almost imaginary but it hit Bella like a wrecking ball of the heaviest steel. She looked anywhere but at Edward as the blond seraph continued, "I can feel your guilt, and your eyes are red still, to be tainted from your first year as a vampire."

She huffed out a breath in annoyance, "Yes," she whispered, "I killed a whole room of tourists. Mothers, children, husbands… they were just faces then, just _prey_."

"We all make mistakes," Esme offered quietly, "eleven months is a long time to deny your thirst…"

"The thing is that I'm still not _sated_! Being in this room," she closed her eyes, inhaling at a snails pace, "I can smell every human within four miles of here, and practically taste them on my tongue. You can't imagine the massacres I caused every night in the damnable room. I'm more a monster than Rue, Esme, and a very large part of me likes it that way."

Rosalie bit out a harsh bark of laughter, "So you're really _not_ Bella anymore."

Edward growled, taking a step toward the blond, half of his mind still reeling from Bella's words.

"No," Bella muttered scornfully, "I guess I'm not. Coming here was a bad idea."

"Don't say that!" Edward snarled, turning on her, "Please, Bell--."

"I'm not the same, Edward," Bella pleaded with her eyes as she looked up at him, "I'm not the Bella you knew as a human. The one who had no desire at even a hint of blood, the girl you fell _in love _with. The one with innocence. I barely remember her…" she trailed off, and her pain was easily portrayed with her words, "and I don't know how to get her back."

"I was that way once, or don't you recall? I hunted humans too," he placed his frozen hands on her waist, "but I gave up that diet for a more virtuous one. You just need some time…"

"And some help," Alice agreed, "coming here was the best choice you made, Bella. You'd be much more a murderer on your own, with no one to teach you control."

Rosalie shook her head, turning swiftly to retreat up the stairs and to her bedroom. Emmett looked sadly at her back before turning to Bella, who was also watching the blond with mixed emotions.

"For what it's worth, Rose," Bella called after her, taking a twisted sense of pride as Rosalie stilled on the stairs, "I'm sorry for everything."

Golden eyes met ruby ones, "So am I," Rosalie responded coolly. What was Bella supposed to make of that?

"She'll come around," Emmett chided, taking a step closer to his newest sister, "and I, for one, am glad to have you back. My brother's been a lonely man."

Bell hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and laughing as he lifted her off the ground, "Missed you too, Em." When he set her back down, Bella's eyes locked with Edward's, and her smile faded at the look on his face.

"Can we…?"

He nodded, auburn hair falling to shield his eyes, "I'll see you all in the morning."

Alice pranced back over to Bella, "We have a lot to talk about," she whispered in her ear, "I'll see you in the morning."

The two lovers walked up the stairs together, not touching, not speaking. The rest of the family watched, their eyes following the pair until they disappeared behind Edward's bedroom door.

"She's hiding… _something_," Carlisle speculated, "and I don't even believe _she_ knows it's hidden."

-

_And if I could hold on  
Through the tears and the laughter  
Would it be beautiful?  
Or just a beautiful disaster?_

_-_

_I don't have time to edit this, and I'm sorry about that. Please review, for my sanity if nothing else. Love you guys! Oh, and just one thing, what is it with boys and __**World of Warcraft?**_ _Honestly. _


	7. Also Important

**_So, book's in for the first round of editing. Excited? Me too! Anyways, the real reason I'm writing..._**

**_Bleh_, I'm kind of getting a little writers block with this story, so I'm putting it up on a bit of a hiatus.I mean, I never really get writer's block, because I can always write _something_, but I'm blocked when it comes to Utopia... Yesterday, however, I found a story that's a little more fun that I started quite a while ago, and I'm going to post it—see how it goes. It's different, but amazing. I like to write for a mature audience. Not adults exactly but… people who will _get_ my writing. I don't know if any of you read my story Celestial Bliss? Well, it's got the same concept as that, only this was the first draft before I changed so much that it became something else entirely.**

**So, I will finish this story, but I need a while so that I can stop 'backspacing' absolutely everything. Gimme about a month or so.**

**The new fic is called **_Hellborn_**, and will be told completely in Edward's point of view. It's pretty fast-paced, very unlike A** _Rogue Omega_ **and** _Delphian Utopia_**, which are both excruciatingly slow. Soo… here's the preview:**

_It was the aroma that most of my kind spent their days—and nights—searching the earth for. Just for one moment of bliss, of complete indulgence. I, personally, hadn't searched for the sweetness of the taste, but it always seemed to find me, always seemed to tempt me into hazardous circumstances. Though I'd had a select few whose blood sang to me as _hers_ had, they were nothing, forgotten, compared to the natural perfume coming from this creature's milky, porcelain skin. _

_She was beautiful, dangerous and unarguably seductive. What Emmett would call a triple threat. And she _was_—a threat in all aspects of the word. She would come to terrorize many things in my life, from my iron willed restraints to my very fragile and finely shattered heart. _

_**Let me know what you think (if you don't hate me) in a review. I apologize, again, for my writer's block.**_


	8. Zeus

_Yay, a new chapter. I'm pretty proud it took me less than a month, I must say. Enjoy. Review, too!_

* * *

_A Delphian Utopia_

_**5**_

_Zeus_

* * *

He stood far from her, peering up at the moonless sky, the stars reflecting in his eyes. Bella would have thought that he would want to be as close to her as possible, cherishing her, savoring the time they had before their world was once again cast into turmoil. The peace never lasted long for them, and it was only a matter of time before Kale sought out what he believed was his. 

"You can't even stand to look at me," she broke the silence with her sonnet of a voice, the tune that of tragedy "can't even look in my eyes anymore."

"It's difficult, yes," he conceded hardly above a whisper, "to see red instead of brown, to feel the frigidness of your skin, instead of the natural warmth. It _kills_ me, Bella," he sighed softly, not even sparing a glance, "how much I don't recognize that body, that soul, the words you twist to sound so gruesome."

He turned toward her, his eyes the personification of heartbreak, "What happened to you down there Bella?"

She stood up in outrage. This, _this_ was what she escaped for? To be interrogated, to be _shunned_ by the only man she ever strived to live for? For the only vampire she would willingly give up her mortality?

She breathed deeply through her nose, pushing the anger, and her newly developed temper, to the pit of her stomach, "Kale… _broke_ me, Edward," she whispered scathingly, "but I'm going to try to fix it. The only way I'll make it though, is with you. I've been alone for a long time, I can't take it anymore."

Doubt. There was doubt in his heart, but for what? Wasn't this the Bella who had smiled at him so sweetly in the meadow, who had accepted him so blindly into her heart? Edward suddenly felt abashed, and lowered his head. How could he be so callously hypocritical?

"Oh, Bella," he murmured, "I feel like such a fool."

She bit her lip, and took a careful step toward him. Almost immediately after sensing her movement, he turned from the window.

"We've both been fools, I think. I was too brazen, and you were…" she smirked, "well you were just a jerk. But, let's put it behind us, alright?"

He smiled too, her favored half-smirk that curled his lips just right. It was more appealing now, that she could see every slight motion of his face.

"I missed that smile," she murmured, tracing the hard contours of his mouth with dainty fingertips, "and these lips."

Edward chuckled softly, "They missed you too."

They kissed softly, lips like butterfly wings touching so gently upon each other.

When Bella opened her eyes, Edward's had darkened considerably, "You're hungry," she sighed, sweeping the hair from his eyes.

He nodded, "And you?"

She pulled back slightly to hold him at arms length, and her mouth twisted into an unattractive grimace, "Aren't I always?" her laugh was hollow, and the sound mirrored the emotion in her eyes. Edward felt a pang of something… perhaps guilt? Maybe, just maybe he could have saved her from all of this. Jacob had made that painfully clear._ This would have never happened, if you would have left her alone from the beginning…_

_

* * *

_

Kale O'Callaugh had never been more furious, or felt more betrayed, in his entire life.

"Where the hell is she?" he seethed, stepping into the moonlit Volterra, people giving him a wide berth for reasons that were unknown to them. Kale radiated power and danger, but only their subconscious could tell them why it was afraid… and it never would.

"Maybe she ran away," Avery chuckled, slipping on a dark cloak he had found in one of the Old Master's rooms. He believed it to be Aro's, but wasn't completely sure. The taste of the old man's essence was still fresh on the young vampire's canines.

"Shut up," Kale snapped, the possibility already having crossed his mind. Of _course_ Bella had taken the chance to run. After that kiss… he hadn't ordered anyone to go after her. He had thought that maybe she'd come running back to him, apologizing, professing her love. _Fool_, he thought now, _she wore her emotions on her sleeve, and you ignored them._

She was gone, but not for good. He wasn't some common vampire with a single coven of rogues. He was the leader of The New Order. There were no limits to his powers, and it was right time he began using them. He would send out a dispatch for Bella to Chicago, where they had first found her. And if she wasn't there, then the blood of innocents was on her hands, for he would tear up every city and town in the Americas until he found her.

"Kale."

The whisper came from his left, and Lorraine stepped from the shadows, her light, reddish hair like a beacon cutting through the black shadow of night. She surveyed her former lover with cold, hard, distant eyes, and he looked through her as if she weren't even there. Had he always looked at her that way, and she had only been too blind in lust to notice?

"Ray," he greeted her swiftly, his eyes catching on some unknown thing over her shoulder, "have you seen Bella? I know you met her. "

Lorraine looked away, over the clouds, trying to suppress the smug feeling that rose inside her at the thought of finally besting Kale at something, "I haven't seen her since she and I first met."

Kale's eyes narrowed into slits, and Avery stepped forward with mirth in his constantly joyful eyes.

"You lie, little traitor."

* * *

Their first hunt was glorious as it was gruesome. It was just the pair, as Edward proffered in secret, for his family not to witness her first refusal of the lesser ambrosia. It would be less sweet, more tasteless, and she would hate it.

Her dislike had been no secret. As soon as she had sunk her canines into the little wolf, she had puckered her lips and disengaged. Her coughing was acidic, and she glared at him when he made a sound in the back of his throat.

"It's bitter," she had complained, wiping her mouth.

"It's no human," he had argued, "or would you rather I find you some lone hiker?"

She had softened then, hurt by the insult, and he had apologized. It seemed neither, though, would cross the bridge that had been built between them.

Later, they lay in bed, both looking up at the canopy, afraid to speak for what the other might say. Slowly, so as not to disrupt their silence, Bella's hand found Edward's in the space between them. She twined her fingers around his, and brought it to her lips, kissing each digit in turn.

"I hate this," she suddenly murmured, turning around to face him, "I've never fought with you, have I? It's horrible."

He chuckled, softly rubbing her cheekbone with his knuckles, "Bella, we're not fighting, but you've been away from me for a year, what would you have me do? It's hard, just accepting you back into my arms. You're so… different."

"You loved my innocence, my kindness, and now it's gone," she muttered, her hope falling. Would he never love her the way he had?

"I did… love all those things. But you, your light is so much more endearing. I'll need time, Bella, and you will too, to get back who you used to be."

_What if I can't?_

* * *

"Looks like there's trouble on the horizon."

Alice chuckled, tracing the defined lines of Jasper's chest. The two laid in bed together after a couple of hours of 'Don't talk, Alice, you'll ruin the mood,' and 'My God, woman, they're fine… _Me_, on the other hand,'… Jasper was quite selfish when it came to her. Now, he ran his hands over her bare shoulders, fingering her bra strap, and then following a path down the curve of her waist.

"I don't see any," she whispered to him, finding his lips with hers in the dark, "trust me, I'd be the first to know."

"Alice," Jasper sighed, afraid of hurting her feelings, afraid of not telling her the truth, "there's so much you haven't been able to see. What if this is one of those things?"

She looked slightly offended, as he'd predicted, "There is no _thing_, Jazz. Whatever bad feeling you've got. Whatever vibes you're getting, they're just anxiety. Now that everything is starting to get back to normal… I haven't seen even the slightest bit of trouble in our futures."

His thumb was making little circles on her naked skin, just above her hip, "Alice," he chuckled darkly, "darling, don't you think you're being a little naïve? As vampires, we're under new law; we're being exposed as we speak. Things are going to fall, and fall fast."

She was silent for a moment, her fingernails whirling little designs in his skin, "We won't fall off the edge for a while, Jasper. _We'll_ survive. I never said that the future of the _world_ wasn't grim."

* * *

It was a day that dawned in the middle of the night. The clouds were blankets of grey, and gloomy faces accompanied the dour mood. Bella was sitting on the front porch, admiring the way that she could be outside, be truly alone, without any eyes following her every move. Of course there was Edward, who had been attuned to her every second in the week since she had returned. As of yet, there had been no word from Kale, no daunting threats put in perspective for them.

The family was packing today though, trying to shift their troubles from one problem to another. Only, there were much too many to count. Their new place of residence had been easy to solve, however. At least, easy for most.

"Maybe we should just go to Forks," Emmett had offered a few nights before as they all congregated in the living room, "you know, back to the old house."

Carlisle had squashed this idea quickly, shaking his head, brows furrowed, "No. It'll be too easy… were anyone to come looking. And we don't want to put Charlie through anymore."

At her father's name, Bella's head jerked up from where it had rested on Edward's shoulder. His hand slid a fraction of an inch down her arm, and he stared at his father, giving him a murderous glare.

"Charlie?" Bella whispered, something fluttering weakly inside her, "he…"

"Father," Jasper murmured from beside her, his gaze still trained on the window, "he's your father."

"Right!" Bella said, looking back to Carlisle, "why can't we go back there?"

"It's too dangerous, Bel," Alice bit her lip as she addressed the brunette from her husbands other side, "and the werewolves will not welcome us back. The treaty's been broken, after all."

Bella wanted to ask what the treaty was, why werewolves had so much harboring hate towards them. Had she ever met a werewolf, and not known it? Had there been many in… Forks? Something at the edge of her memory demanded attention, but it slipped between her fingers every time she tried to grasp at it.

"So I can't--."

"See him," Carlisle cut her off, "no, Bella, I'm sorry."

"But…" she protested weakly, unable to come up with a good argument. She didn't want to disrespect Carlisle, either, so she scoured her mind for words, "but he… he probably thinks I left him!" her words hid a hint of desperation, "or did… did I get to say goodbye?"

"You left a letter," Edward whispered, "it was a beautiful letter, Bella. I'm sure he understood."

She shrugged, smiling a bit for Edward's benefit, "I guess… I'm lucky then."

Rosalie jumped at the chance to snipe her, "Luckier than any of us were."

Edward growled, the tension that had been bubbling in the last week, only folding as he showed, physically, his anger. Emmett tensed, wondering who exactly he would stand in front of. When Bella finally cracked from the sharp snipes of his wife, who would he protect? It was Bella after all, who was on the right side (wasn't she?) But then, Rosalie _was_ his wife.

"Settle down, kids," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Carlisle nodded, "Yes, let's get back to the matter of our new location. Any further ideas than Forks?"

"Canada!" Alice chirped happily, "Yes, Whitehorse will do just fine."

_"Whitehorse_?" Rosalie snorted, "…ew."

"Near the border of Alaska, isn't it Alice? I believe we've passed through before…" Esme looked to Bella, "I hope you like snow."

The brunette rose her eyebrows and muttered a short 'I wouldn't know' at the same time Edward shook his head in the negative.

"I mean… I suppose you could enjoy it more now," he shrugged, smiling bemusedly and muttering, "you used to hate it."

Bella looked from Edward to Alice, smiling prettily, "Whitehorse sounds just fine."

So, they'd agreed on Canada. Today was moving day, and everyone was busy, bustling about with things to do.

_Except me_, Bella thought, sinking loser into her own embrace, _of course I'm still the odd one out._

She scowled at Emmett, who was carefully juggling Edward's piano and his flat-screen television in both hands. He was smiling, _that jerk_, as he loaded them into the back of the moving truck they had _purchased_ just this morning.

"Hey Bells," he said as he passed her moving back towards the front door. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his eyebrows rose, his laugh booming. Continuing into the house, he passed Edward who was balancing a rather large box of CD's and a few suitcases in the cradle of his arms.

"Looks like someone's not getting any tonight," Emmett chuckled, and Edward's impassive expression fell, becoming troubled as he spied Bella, still sitting on the front stoop. She was brooding, he could tell by the sour, nearly acidic expression splayed all across her delicate features.

He walked by her carefully, almost as if he were treading on glass, and made sure his things settled carefully in a corner of the truck. Bella had not moved when he took the few steps back toward her. It was almost as if she were being stubborn, not looking at him, and not even breathing judging by the stillness of her chest. There was a storm in her eyes, a rage that was barely contained, always present. Edward couldn't figure out if it was the circumstances that had it so visible, or simply that her eyes would always be that way.

He hoped for the lesser of two evils, the former would be greatly acceptable.

"Bella?" he asked slowly.

Her eyelids fell further, and she pinched her lips, "You think me still human Edward, is that it? Or do you have some kind of superiority complex, where the man just has to do _everything_ for the woman in a relationship?"

Suddenly, as if realizing her hardness, her unwarranted attitude, she softened, looking up at him with strangely colored eyes, "Why won't you let me do _anything_?" Her eyes startled him for a moment. They were still very much burgundy, but an undercurrent of gold lay there. It made them look almost back to the brown she had once possessed. As a human.

"I just…" he sighed hopelessly, taking a seat beside her on the steps, "Bella, I _do_ still think of you as human, because, _I_ didn't change you. Carlisle, Alice, we all held no part in it. I believed you to be dead, Bella, and my mind… it still thinks of you as fragile, as porcelain that, if not handled carefully, will break."

She looked over at him, her beauty disarming. His face was between her hands before he could blink and she was pressing her forehead to his, "I've lost my warmth, my blush, my weaknesses. Please, _please_ see me for what I truly am Edward. We won't survive if you don't."

_We won't survive. _

_

* * *

_

It had taken six hours to reach Canada, to reach Whitehorse, and Edward watched in amusement as Emmett was chased down the corridor of the hotel by Alice. The two had always had some sort of sibling rivalry, something that was only enhanced in a more violent sense by Rosalie and Edward's.

The blond appeared by his side almost as if her name had been called, "Which room do you want?"

He plucked a key from her at random, nodding curtly as she walked towards Alice and Emmett. There was some argument there about the pool—the hot tub, more accurately—that had sent little Alice over the edge, and Emmett was in her line of fire. Bella's hand was tight in his and he glanced down at the card envelope in his hands. Two nights in a hotel, while Esme and Carlisle decided on a home. They were doing that now, a few towns over in Whitehorse, choosing the place where they'd live.

Bella smiled, a little devilishly, and nudged Edward with her elbow.

"Let's go… unpack."

They hadn't been able to get rooms on the same floor, except for two of them, but it turned out that Edward's draw had been the one on the fifth floor, the highest floor. Away from everyone else.

"Of course," he grinned, leaning down to kiss her forehead, leading her towards the elevators. Once inside, Bella relaxed more into his chest, toying with the buttons of his shirt. A serene expression was on her face, one that Edward rather enjoyed. They couldn't _not_ touch each other, it seemed, as Edward's hand was glued to her hip, her hair, and hers was similarly roaming about his chest, sticking mostly to the topmost button of his blouse.

The elevator dinged and a couple stepped inside, accompanied by a child.

Bella's nostrils flared, inhaling the scent like the most elusive of perfumes, and her throat constricted in painful way. Though they had stopped outside of town, just for Bella to sate herself, she still felt the withdrawals. Edward, in a swift motion, put himself between the couple and Bella, his hold on Bella's arm a little more than aggressive. She would never forgive herself for robbing the light from a child's eyes.

"It's cold here," the little one, who mayn't have been older than seven, snuggled into her mother's long trench coat. She was beautiful, as most children were, with wide green eyes and a plait of blond hair.

Her mother merely smiled, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders, "It's night time," she offered, "the morning wasn't as cold, sweetie. You'll get used to it."

"Don't forget," the father put in, glancing swiftly at the two beautiful people who accompanied them, "you can't make snow angels in Sand Diego." His eyes lingered on Bella, not in a perverse way, but an appreciating glance, a dazed one. It was normal, she conceded as she turned away from him in physical pain now, normal. Like an unsuspecting fly to an Venus Flytrap.

She breathed through her mouth, and when she could taste their essence in the air, not at all. Edward kept her sane, she realized, kept her from splattering the blood of the innocent all over the tiny cavern of the elevator. Soon, almost in a daze, they were gone. Bella was also slightly intoxicated by their scent, and she stumbled as Edward tried to give her some space.

"That was very difficult for you," he murmured, "I'm sorry. I should have realized that this--,"

"Would be an exceptional experience for my control," Bella was standing suddenly straight, taking a deep breath of the remaining aroma, "I'm fine."

He smiled, a true, half-smile, and laid a kiss to her forehead, murmuring, "You're very strong."

She nodded, relaxing back into him, waiting one more floor until she could have him all to herself. No one else joined them on their journey upwards, and they reached their room in a little under five minutes. There was plush, eggplant colored couch, and a television nearly the size of Emmett's in the truck. The furniture was made out of faux dark wood, and a door to the right led to the bedroom. Bella peeked inside, seeing another small television, and a King Size bed twice the size of hers back in Volterra. A child-like smile appeared as she danced to the other side of the room, her eyes widening at the gigantic tub in the bathroom.

"This room is amazing," she came up behind Edward in the bedroom, slipping her arms around his waist, "very luxurious." He was facing their large, window, his fingers sliding away from the curtains and coming to settle over Bella's hands clamped about his torso.

"Rosalie and Alice _do_ have their demands," he chuckled, turning in her embrace. She straightened, her hands sliding up to his neck instead.

"Well we'd do better not to insult their indulgences," she whispered, pressing her lips to his. Their kiss, as none before them, was passionate and aggressive. Bella felt an emotion, hidden beneath layers of carnal thirst, rise within her. Had kissing Edward—_being with him_—always been such a rush to the head? A disarming thrill of adrenaline?

"You give me butterflies," she admitted bashfully, pulling him with her to the bed, "silly, isn't it?"

"No," he reassured her, "you give me the same feeling. It's disarming, Bella, what you do to me."

_To Be Continued_

* * *

_Now I never meant,  
To do you wrong,  
That's what I came here to say._

_But if I was wrong,  
Then I'm sorry,  
I don't let it stand in our way._

* * *

_Who saw the Ray/ Kale thing? Haaa. I probably fooled no one, but just let me live in my delusions for a bit. Anywho, Review. The next chapter will continue from this point, be warned. : ) _


	9. Hera

I realize I spelled San Diego wrong in the last chapter, sorry. It was a typo, the d from Diego got attached to the San, and well you get it. This chapter is a little intimate, but I'm not going to go into the gory details. It's still rated T, and it's very, _very_ mild. Promise. Also, the Cullen's new home is in my profile. I really, really like it, lol.

**Song**; _I Caught Fire in Your Eyes,_ The Used.

* * *

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_6_

_**Hera**_

* * *

****

Avery watched, tilting his head in meek enthrallment as Kale's eyes bore into Ray's, burning her with their concentration. He shook her once, twice, before finally shoving her away from him, disgusted.

"You let her go," Kale seethed, practically spitting the rage through his teeth, "no, _pardon_, you _helped_ her _escape_!"

Ray, the fiery, non-committal redhead merely shrugged, her eyes cast downwards, a finger twirling strands of her hair into tangled curls. She was lovely, Avery had to admit it to himself, lovely in a dangerous way. Something about her was disastrous, and yet he couldn't relate it to the danger he found in Rue. Ray was… _unexplainable_.

Kale's jaw was clenching so wildly, and Ray was standing so vulnerably against the wall of the feeding room, it looked as if a teacher was scolding the school clown for misbehaving _yet again_. It seemed routine for them, almost, as if they'd been through this type of situation before. Perhaps it would have been better for the little ginger if Avery had just let the taste of her lie pass through him—if he had just kept his mouth shut.

"Where did she go, Lorraine?"

Kale's question hung in the air, the silence almost blowing out Avery's ear drums.

"I don't _know_," Ray moaned, throwing her head back into the cobble walls, "Kale, for fuck's sake, I've no idea where the hell she is. She's just _gone_," the small vampire threw her hair over her shoulder, aggravated with the knotted mess she had morphed it into, "Get over it."

"You should take your own advice, Ray, _darling_," Kale sniped. Lorraine visibly withdrew, stung by the insult and angered, angered beyond belief.

Avery smiled, _well, redheads are notorious for their tempers…_

"You _bastard_," she hissed, taking four long strides and ending up practically stepping on Kale's toes. She was much shorter than him, but still, they would have made a handsome couple in their time, "Who the hell do you think you are? Can I help it that I fell for your stupid charms and your riveting words? No," her voice fell into a whisper, and the conversation was no longer humorous for the onlooker, but nearly painful to watch. She was pouring out her soul, and Kale was oblivious, "_no_, because you told me you loved me too. And then you were gone," she laughed, a bitter, ugly sound, "gone as if you'd never touched my life in the first place."

The blond leader turned away from her, his eyes reflecting the firelight in front of him, "It was complicated," he admitted, sounding somewhat remorseful, "I-I couldn't stay with you, Ray."

She scoffed mockingly, "I'm so sorry it was difficult for _you_!"

"It was!" he roared, running a hand through his hair, "I did love you, Ray, I did."

"Liar," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. If it weren't for the two steroid pumping vamps by the door, she'd have been long gone. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. But could she deal, could she stand _this_ being the last goodbye?

Avery coughed quietly, shaking his head, "Actually, he's telling the truth."

"Shut up," she muttered, not tearing her eyes from Kale.

"Ray," Kale turned back to her, "I loved you, but it's been a long time. I have new desires…"

"Desires like Bella Swan," Ray whispered sourly, "you think you love her?" she scoffed, laughing, "well your affections fall on deaf ears, Kale. She harbors _love_ for someone far better, far less tainted than you could ever hope to be. You can see it in her eyes, in her smile when she wears one. When she's quiet, preoccupied, she sure as hell isn't thinking about _you_."

"You _will_ be quiet," Kale said dangerously, switching his gaze to Avery, "and you'll remain in the castle; Avery will show you to your rooms."

"No," she growled, "you can't just keep people prisoner when they anger you, Kale. Look at Bella! Just look at what that did to her!"

"YOU WILL STAY IN THE CASTLE!"

His roar shook the room, and Ray merely huffed, shaking her head at him. Spinning on her heel, the two guards pushed the doors open for her, and Avery followed, watching as Kale turned back to the fire. He was changing; like the flame he had many colors, all of different intensity, and some still yet to be revealed.

* * *

She smiled, pulling him as near as their bodies could get. There was a passion in his eyes she'd never seen before, a carnal want that swept through her own body, suffocating her still heart, clenching her emotions in a sensually painful grip. She had never felt this before, this overwhelming sense of _need_. Or had she? Had she felt this kind of heat before, and she just couldn't recall?

Pushing her meticulous thoughts away, she faded into him, bringing his lips to hers. Edward felt her dainty, spidery hands dance their way across his shirt in movements too fast for the naked eye. It fluttered to the floor, and she was grinning when he looked back at her, a giggle seeping from her lips. He rolled over, bringing her lithe body with him. She now sat over his waist, straddling him, her hands on the hard curvatures of his chest.

"Hmm," she smiled, tracing the line that flowed from his collarbone to the beginning of his torso, "I forgot how perfect you are."

He sighed in mock disappointment, "You know, I wish I could say the same."

His fingers lingered at the hem of her shirt, and without another word, she had rid herself of the garment, depositing it next to his. His hands continued their journey to her back, tracing the ridge of her spine before stilling over the clasp of her bra. It, too, fell to the floor within seconds. She had never been so exposed to him before, she was sure. _That_ she would have remembered.

He gazed at her as an artist would his perfect masterpiece, cherishing her flaws, relishing in her perfections. She _was_ art to him, in its finest form, and tonight, she could feel that. For once she didn't feel inferior, she felt equal. As smooth as granite as he, and just as soft and beautiful. _Equals._

Bending over him, her chest touched his, and their eyes met. There were no words, not for this moment. None could express the feelings coursing between them. And yet… And yet his soul was still guarded. As clearly as she could see it through his eyes, she could see the barrier around it.

_Time,_ she reminded herself silently as they learned one another.

Whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and Bella reciprocating in kind, they shared each other.

_We just need time._

_And I'm melting  
In your eyes  
Like my first time  
That I caught fire  
Just stay with me  
Lay with me  
Now_

* * *

The house was much different than any the Cullens had ever inhabited. Completely made out of log, it stood nestled in the forest, far from the town. A terrace surrounded it, and several others stood out, extending from each bedroom. The inside was cozy and light, due to the front window that covered most of the wall. Edward and Bella chose the bedroom at the farthest end of the house, away from the window. It was completely set up in a matter of minutes and Bella leaned back, falling into the plush down of their new bed.

Readjusting herself, she rolled onto her stomach, watching Edward as he assembled his CD's, just as he liked them. Her smile was large, graceful, and genuine for once. He, however, had no smile on his face, and his brow was deeply creased.

"Hey," she said softly, "what are you thinking about?"

He looked up, almost as if he were surprised to see her there, "Actually," he hesitated, moving quickly to the other corner of his room where his nearly empty duffle bag lay, "Marriage."

He pulled something from the pocket of his bag, and held it tightly in his hands.

"I proposed to you, once, Bella, do you recall?"

She looked down at his hand, fingering his taught digits, "Vaguely."

"If I were to do it again," he asked softly, lifting her chin with his finger, "would you have the same answer?"

She looked at him, "Stupid question, Edward, of course I'll say _yes_."

He quirked a brow at her, unappreciative of the sarcasm, "Be serious," he told her sternly.

She straightened her posture, dropped her smile, and in a monotone responded, "Of course."

He glared, but lowered to one knee, a random and completely unexpected smile appearing on his face as he rolled his wrist, exposing the small, shining ring of his mother's. It glistened in the moonlight, sending eerie bouts of light over Bella's face. She stared down at it, the only source of light in the room, a jewel in the darkest of caves.

How it could be so beautiful was beyond her, how she could find a material thing like jewelry anything close to endearing was even farther over her head. She'd never been one for jewels and makeup, even now when such things were easily accessible. But this ring… she could feel the life in it, taste the history in it's binding. Edward's mother…

"Will you marry me Bella?"

Her fingertips touched the diamond in the center of the ring and she smiled serenely, happily, "Yes."  
Edward's face lit up, and shakily, almost as if he were still nervous of rejection, he slipped the ring onto her dainty finger. Their eyes locked, and Bella stretched her body a little farther so that she could press her forehead to his.

"Thank you," he breathed, "thank you."

"As if you were just _so_ desperate," she chuckled, running her nails over his cheek, "as if you couldn't find anyone better."

"I can't," he replied in a breathy whisper, "no one is more suited for me than you."

She laughed, pulling away and landing with her back on the bed, her legs still hanging over the edge. Edward was next to her in seconds, propped up on an elbow, one hand sliding under her shirt to trace designs onto the flesh of her stomach.

"You always know what to say, don't you?" she asked.

He pondered for a moment—or pretended to, "No, not always. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me."

She grinned, one side of her mouth twitching upwards, "True, you're pretty hot headed."

They lapsed into one of their silences. A comfortable space where they could communicate without words, without even looking at each other. Their bodies were already familiar, knowing what the other wanted, craved. And no one had to say a word.

It was a beautiful love they shared.

_Beautiful_, Bella thought, hiding her eyes from Edward, _maybe_. _But is this marriage only a way to cover up how broken we are?_

* * *

_Hear your voice again  
Could we dim the sun  
And wonder where we've been  
Maybe you and me  
So kiss me like you did  
My heart stopped beating  
Such a softer sin_

* * *

_**Short, I know. Next chapter, a love blossoms. Between who? You'll just have to wait and see! P. S. I have a new fic out, called FLY WITH ME, and it's a JakeOC fic. Please read it! Review too! It's lonely!**_


	10. Demeter

_This chapter is revolutionary. You'll meet so many new characters. Some will be recurrent, some you won't see for a while, but get used to them. Don't forget this is a trilogy, and new people are refreshing and invigorating. Oh, and I have nothing against Californians, I am one myself. Don't be offended by the Hollywood ref.. __

* * *

_

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_7_

_**Demeter**_

* * *

Avery followed the young one down the hall, watching the sway of her hair as it dusted along the small of her back. What a lovely shade of red it was, like fire. She was muttering under her breath, too low for even him to hear, about Kale most likely. He wondered if her heart was broken now, or if it had already been torn to pieces long ago.

"So where's this room?"

She'd turned around and he hadn't even noticed, too preoccupied in watching her lithe, dainty movements—the movements of a soldier.

"You've been in battle," he murmured, that voice of his—so soft and beguiling—completely ignoring her question. She raised her brows.

"A few times," she confessed, looking up at him as he came to stand dangerously close to her. She reared back, her neck stretching. They were so close, she almost felt smothered. In a slow movement, his eyes moved from her hair to her eyes, where they locked.

"You move like a warrior," he said simply, moving around her and continuing down the hall. She stood there a minute, trying to asses what had just happened. He'd practically taken up the spot of floor she'd been standing on!

"Okay…" Avery opened a door at the end of this hall, his eyes connecting with hers as the only show of invitation. She slid past him into the room, wondering what the hell his issue with space was.

"Thanks," she murmured, "you should probably be getting back to Kale."

He smiled secretively, lowering his eyes, "I don't answer to Kale, Princess. He isn't my keeper."

_Princess?_ She ignored the slight, smiling a smile of her own contempt, "So, you don't like him either?"

"I never said that," he answered vaguely, "I care for him, as if he were my own brother, however, I do not look to him as a master."

Ray settled on one of the plush couches in her living room, motioning to the one across from her. Avery sat, looking off towards the other wall, where a painting hung—Da Vinci's unfinished _or_ finished, portrait of a woman' s head. The gold toned maiden stared at something below her, seemingly at peace, smiling serenely. Ray envied her.

The room they were in now, the one that had obviously been given personal touches—had it been a member of the Volturi's? Marcus, Aro, Caius? Ray suddenly felt a sense of foreboding as she stared at the painting, hanging so harmlessly on the wall.

She jerked her attention from it, focusing instead on Avery, "How long have you been here?"

"Not long now," he answered, "just about two years."

She leaned forward, her elbows pressing down on her knees, "Tell me," she muttered, her eyes ablaze with curiosity—and scorn, always and forever scorn— "how is it that Kale came to be master here?"

"He won."

She cocked her head, "You fought the Volturi?"

"We _tricked_ the Volturi," Avery amended calmly, settling back into his chair, "with a whole community trapped inside of their own minds, it is easy to annihilate them. And so we did, while they were all disillusioned, killing them one after the other, starting with the twins."

"The twins?"

Avery smiled slightly in remembrance, "Alec and his little sister Jane. Sinister beasts they were, causing pain with just one look. Jane was hardest to kill."

"And who did _you_ have the pleasure of eradicating?" Ray drawled, finding Avery's pleasure of death appalling.

He looked up at her, face stoic, eyes black, "Just the one. I believe they called him Aro."

* * *

Bella tried not to notice as Edward rose from their bed, supporting his weight on his elbows, watching as the scarlet sun snuck into their bedroom through the curtains. She wanted to sleep, to dream, to escape to a world all her own. Away from reality, away from chaos—where things would go her way. Where she could be happy again. 

But none of that was possible now. She hadn't slept in one year, three months, and thirteen days. And god, did she miss the solace of slumber.

Edward's cool hands on her back made her reluctantly open her eyes, only to be grateful when she did so. He was staring down at her, his innocent face and revealing eyes, focused solely on her.

"I would have thought you were sleeping," he whispered, honeysuckle breath encompassing her.

"I tried," she sighed, rolling onto her back, pulling the covers up to cover her naked chest, "but it doesn't really work, no matter how tired I feel."

He smiled sadly, laying down beside her once more, placing his head at the junction of her neck and shoulder, "No matter how tired you'll ever be, you'll never sleep again."  
Her eyes slipped shut, "I know."

"Bella," he said, "we should get up, talk."

"Should we?" she teased, "I was thinking we could just lay in bed all day. That'd be kind of nice."

His lip twitched into a grin, "As _nice_ as that would be, there's things we have to do. Like make a cover for ourselves, buy you some clothes…"

She grinned slyly, "A cover? Can my new name be Mata Hari?"

Edward nuzzled further into her neck, "How about Bonnie? I'll be Clyde."

"Hmm, no, I think I like Heathcliff for you," she laughed at his sardonic frown, brushing the hair from his eyes, "Well what would you rather be called?"

"Yours," he whispered, "just Edward."

"Are you trying to seduce me Mr. Cullen?" she murmured, intrigued by the low, sensual drawl his voice had slipped towards.

"That depends," he kissed her softly, "is it working?"

* * *

"—and there has not yet been any new proceedings on the family who has been missing from Bristol since Monday evening. The father and husband, Evan Daniels, had nothing to say to us when we caught up to him outside of his office this morning. He seems to be continuing on his daily routine with the exception of hiring a private investigator by the name of…" 

Analise looked away from the television, disgusted once again by the piles of cold, rank corpses littering up the two-story apartment she'd taken residence in. Dash just _had_ to bring all of his meals home, including the ones who had been on the telly all week, that mother and her two little brats. But on the plus side—he would bring things home for her too—like that delicious university student from the building next door. He'd tasted like the breath of a god, maybe a little sweeter.

But still, living with a man, especially an immortal man, was hard work. Dash was disgusting, and she'd thought that since they hadn't been together that long he'd still be in that reserved phase around her. But no, he'd jumped right into familiarity, and had dragged her right along.

_Ugh,_ she kicked a dismembered head from her path to the bathroom, and watched it roll towards the living room, _boys._ When she reached the loo, she immediately sought out her reflection, comforted that she hadn't turned into a putrid mass of rotting corpse in the hour since she'd last seen herself. Sometimes, when all was silent, like just after a kill, she'd see _their_ faces as her own. Sometimes when she looked into a mirror, there would be no eyeballs in her sockets, and the flesh of her nose would have melted off, as if it had been left decomposing for weeks. Sometimes it was worse—her lips, rotten and maggoty, her skin a pale, haunting, _rancid_ blue. And sometimes, her withered, gnarled mouth would move, pieces of her lips sagging, speaking to her in words only she could understand. And she would feel the dead, hear them cursing her. Watch their decrepit fingers run themselves through her hair, over her face.

But then, she already knew she had a reserved place in Hell. They didn't have to tell her twice.

Downstairs, she heard the door shut, and then voices.

Dash had brought home another victim. Another innocent. Another body full of blood.

She straightened her shirt, flipped her hair, and breathed out through her nose.

_Again. Again. Again._ It was survival of the fittest, after all. And Analise—she'd been surviving for quite a while.

* * *

"Aro?" Ray screeched, "Aro, as in the all powerful master? Brother above brothers? You killed _him_?" 

Avery did not even bat an eyelash, "He was no match for me in battle," looking down, a strange emotion crossed his features, "but I regret the kill. He was an enigma, that man. We could use his guidance now that things are falling apart."

Ray leaned back in mock surprise, "you don't mean…things aren't as perfect as Kale thinks?"

He chuckled quietly, his lips hardly moving to form a glimmer of a smile. They were both quiet for a moment, before Avery spoke up, "I think I should be going now."

Ray nodded, leading him to the door, "It was a pleasure," she cracked a smile, "unfortunately."

He nodded to her, eyes boring intense holes into her as he said his silent goodbye, "A pleasure."

* * *

Something terrible was stirring just beneath the surface. London had gone to shambles, as had Marseilles. Creatures were emerging from the pits of Hell, or so the whispers said. People were scared to leave their homes—even though the flimsy layers of wood and brick could hardly save them. The other day, a woman had been gutted in an alley, her insides torn clean out by a marble hand. He'd smiled as he mutilated her body, sucking the blood from her neck as it simultaneously surged from her stomach. After, she'd fallen to the asphalt, dead as dead could be, her eyes still open in horrific surprise. There had only been one witness, and now he was missing too. 

Missing, that's all anyone heard these days. People were dropping like flies, or disappearing like wind through the trees.

Frankly, Jordan was sick of it. His new girlfriend was one of the lost, _and_ his best friend's brother, a twenty five year old lawyer. Creatures from Hell? Chupacabras? It was more like some psychopathic serial killing clan—like those homicide crazed groupies a few years back, in the States. He'd thought English culture was a little more civilized, a little more reserved, but obviously they had the same modern flaws as those Hollywood death-obsessed fanatics.

His mom was worried, always giving him the keys to her car—even though he was still meant to be driving with an adult after his license suspension. She was reconsidering the trip to Italy, but he knew they'd end up going. He'd use the excuse that it was safer there if he had to. There hadn't been any killings yet in Rome.

Plus, he'd wanted to sketch the clock tower in Volterra for as long as he could remember. And finally, _finally_, he was getting the chance to do it.

* * *

Kale was lost. In his head, in the long, dreary, dark halls of some ancient castle. Inside his own delusions, his memories. Ray had brought back things, events he'd never wanted to remember. Images of her smile, her grace, her beauty as she consumed him on those nights they would be together. And then… the moments when he'd left. Her cries, her pleas, her begging. The dirt on her knees as she'd fallen to the mud, the piercing screams as she'd taken out her misery on the village near their home. He'd driven her to massacre. 

_But that was so long ago_, he reasoned with himself now_, I have to believe I'm better than that_. And yet he was chasing Bella. Bella, whose heart belonged to someone else. Bella, who was much too perfect for a beast of his caliber. He belonged with _Virgil_ in Hell, deserved to burn for eternity in flames that wouldn't kill him, only cause him pain beyond imagination.

And even though he knew that he hardly deserved to live, he wouldn't stop the killing, the homicide, the _torture_ that his race was wreaking on the other. Because he was lost, too far gone to return to the light. Perhaps he could have been saved before _she'd_ fled, but now it was too late. Kale had become an oppressor, a tyrant, a blood lusting _king_.

* * *

_When did I lose my sense of purpose?  
Can I regain what's lost inside?  
Why do I feel like I deserve this?  
Why does my pain look like my pride?_

* * *

_Okay, questions? Comments? Leave me a review. I know you guys want to know about the new people, so ask away. Short. Yeah, I know._


	11. Persephone

_I'm going to have to start putting the dates and what not back on the head of the sections. It'll get confusing if not. _

* * *

_**A Delphian Utopia**_

_8_

_**Persephone**_

_**Whitehorse, Cullens**_

_**14**__**th**__** of January**_

_How she could dance_. The way she moved, both sensual and innocent in the same lithe, light steps. At times, she hardly even noticed that her body was swaying, that her feet had taken to portraying the natural lullaby drifting around her. Alice wondered if, when she was still living, breathing, she had loved to move as she did now. Or had it come with the superior speed, the ethereal grace of becoming a vampire?

As she pranced around the room, rearranging her and Jasper's possessions for the third time since the move, the thought stopped her. Was humanity really lost to her? Would she ever know if she was the same _Mary _Alice that had been thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, living in Biloxi? Would she ever reclaim the personality that had been hers then?

"Oh, Alice," Jasper wandered into the room, looking around the large space that belonged to he and his wife, "again?"

Unaware of her thoughts, he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the stack of books in the corner that she had organized. It wasn't that they had been a mess, but simply, not alphabetized, categorized, the way she _needed_ them to be. Jasper just didn't understand the concept of cleanliness.

Shaking her head, Alice smiled, slipping her arms around Jazz's waist, "So you can find them easier."

"Oh, yes," he drawled, "it will inevitably save me all of two seconds."

She slapped his stomach playfully, "Shut up. How un_grate_ful!"

A small knock on the doorframe caused them both to turn, and Alice smile cheerily at Bella, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Bella's strong frown merely deepened, and she shook her head, "Nothing really," she murmured, looking to Alice, "would you… mind taking a little hunt with me? I have to talk to you."

The underlying urgency in her voice made Alice nod, and she set down a CD case on her bedside table. Kissing Jasper quickly, Alice slipped on a pair of sandals, joining Bella in the hall in seconds.

When they were finally in the trees, Bella turned to Alice, knowing she had just seen, just experienced her next words in a vision.

Bella sighed, "It's what's right, Alice."

The pixie's face crumpled, "After everything you've been through, after everything _he's_ been through… and you want to leave him?"

* * *

-- gore warning— 

_**London, Analise and Dash**_

_**10**__**th**__** of January**_

Analise smiled down at the two newcomers as she descended the stairs. The male raised one brow, and the air of arrogance lingering around him was immediately tangible once she reached the landing. For a human, he was handsome, with dark, brown hair and eyes of lapis lazuli. They were slightly dulled behind a pair of shaded lenses, but still appealing.

"I don't see any party guests," he tore his eyes from Ana, moving them to Dash who still swayed in the doorway. The male vampire grinned, showing pearly white teeth that glistened in the fluorescent lights of the apartment. The female, the male's sister by the look of her, scooted closer to her brother. Some unknown fear had gripped her insides, making her shudder.

"Maybe we should come back later…" she murmured, looking to Analise for some female companionship, "when everyone else gets here."

"Oh, honey," Ana cooed, "you didn't think there was really a party, did you?"

How something could happens so fast was lost on the girl. One moment she was in the center of the room with her brother, the next, on the floor, a man hovering over her she had met only moments before. How wonderful; being raped on vacation.

"Please," she whispered to Dash, "please, you don't have to do this!"

He scrunched his nose, something she would have found endearing, were they in any other position, "You think I want _you_?" he laughed, "some Plain little Jane when I have someone like her?" He motioned vaguely to the spot were Analise was torturing her brother, drawing screams from him of the likes she'd never even heard in movies.

"What…" the girl gasped as Dash's eyes darkened in color, and with one, long, pale fingernail, drew a slice down her throat that stung, "… what are you?"

"Your worst nightmare," Dash drawled as his hands wandered from around her throat to the base of her belly. She felt slightly exhilarated, captivated by Dash's otherworldly looks, his sweet, tantalizing breath drifting over her face. She felt a tugging in her stomach. _Thump. Thump_. Her heart pumped blood to every vein. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad…

Until, suddenly, she was screaming too.

Dash gripped at her insides, twisting his hand into the hole he'd made in her stomach, enjoying the feeling of his hand inside of her. Almost by instinct, his mouth lowered to the base of her chin, and his teeth sliced her skin like a knife through butter. Sucking the life from her, he pulled at whatever intestines his grip could reach, killing her, her last scream fading into a sick, bloody gurgle. The crimson ambrosia spilled from her mouth, and Dash, his lips bloodied and raw, licked it up, savoring the empty, horrified look in her eyes.

The man across the room watched as his sister was mutilated, his eyes wide, his screams cutting off. His lips flapped uselessly, and Analise pulled her nails from his skin, assessing the long gashes she'd made from navel to nose. When he looked back at her, there was a crazed look in the beauty's eye. It would not be long, he thought, before he joined his sister. Heaven or Hell, he had a one-way ticket tonight.

* * *

_**London, Jordan**_

_**13**__**th**__** of January**_

"Things are starting to go to the shitter around here," Jordan winced at his mother's choice of words. America or Europe, it was weird when parents used any type of profanity. It _was_ true, however. The airport was crowded with people'; people who wanted out of London, out of England. It seemed the rainiest place in the world was no longer a desirable habitation. All the trouble seemed to be coming from here.

"Mum," he growled as they stood in line to be seated, "shut up."

Margaret slapped her son lightly on the back of his head, "Hopefully the Italian culture will improve your manners."

"Yes, because growing up in England obviously hasn't cut it."

She sighed, "Listen to your music, darling."

They sat in the front of the plane, in the part of First Class right before Coach. Jordan slipped his ear buds into his ears, blasting the sounds of Audioslave and The Used so that his mother could hear the base through the other side. She rolled her eyes, not bothering to tell him how it bothered her; he already knew.

Across the aisle, a woman with curling black hair and ruby eyes watched him. She was smiling, smiling in a way the girls smiled at him at school. Like she _wanted_ him. But in a completely different way. Liked she needed him.

"An," the man next to her placed his hand over hers, and glared at Jordan, licking his immaculate teeth in some sort of warning. _Obviously not from around here,_ Jordan thought, shrugging. The girl didn't tear her eyes from his face the entire plane ride. She watched him, at times lifting her nose when he made a sudden movement.

It was as if she was just _waiting_ to pounce.

* * *

_**Whitehorse, Cullens**_

_**14**__**th**__** of January**_

Edward stormed through his room, didn't even bother knocking on the door to the adjoining bathroom, and blasted right through it. Bella squeaked, shocked, and leaned back on the sink counter.

"You can't go."

She growled, returning her gaze to the mirror, fingered the straps of her tank top. Her hands stilled when two, stone, cold ones came down upon them at the pinnacle of her shoulders.

"You can't go, Bella."

"I need to see them. You act as if I'm leaving for good." She smiled at him shyly through their reflections, and he sighed, dropping his head to lay at the nape of her neck.

"I know, I know you'll be back in a few days. But Bella, Carlisle's forbidden it. And the werewolves… they're not friendly with Vampire Bella."

(did I scare you?)

She rolled her eyes, turning in Edward's embrace, laying her hands onto his chest, "They're friendly with Bella, and that's all I am."

She kissed him sweetly on the mouth, "I'll be back before you even know I'm gone."

He scoffed, "Impossible."

"Improbable," she corrected softly, running her hands over his collar.

He could only watch her go.

* * *

_**Washington, Jake**_

_**15th of January**_

Jacob Black sat in the bed of Quil's beat up, old truck, watching the empty, dirt road. Embry and Quil drank soda's beside him, wondering what it was Jacob was always looking for out there. Today they had driven to outside of La Push, to an old country road where they parked—and watched. Overall, it was pretty boring.

Pretty boring, that is, until Embry saw the ghost.

"Hey," she murmured. Standing in front of them was Bella, in all of her brunette, soft skinned, tawny eyed glory. She smiled only at Jacob, spoke to only Jacob, was here only for Jacob.

* * *

_She is in my bloodstream, tonight she's draining me  
The room is filled with reds and blues  
I follow as she leads into the darkness  
Drying up my veins, she's a ghost, a silhouette  
Calling out my name_

* * *

_An extremely short filler chapter. Next chapter is the beginning of the end. The very long end, so don't worry. It's no where near over._


	12. Poseidon

_So I've decided that the name of the third installment, and the last, will have something to do with Pandora. Maybe **Pandora's Exodus**. I'm not sure, any suggestions? The reason for the name is simply this; to me, Bella is a modern Pandora. She unleashes everything into the world, in both my stories and really, everyone else's too. She has a knack for trouble, an insatiable curiosity, and so did Pandora. _

_Bella's out of character in this chapter, I know, I do. But she's a wee bit different anyways. Didn't Stephenie hint at that in Eclipse? That Bella wouldn't be thoroughly Bella as a vampire?_

* * *

**_A Delphian Utopia_**

_9_

**_Poseidon_**

* * *

"What the hell are you?" 

Bella remained silent, her eyes roaming over Jacob Black, astonished at how much he'd grown. When she'd left, he'd been gargantuan, now he was just ridiculously big. _Who gets that tall? _She asked herself, smiling at him, telling him without words that he knew exactly who and what she was.

"Jake," she murmured, "you can smell me just as I can smell you. Don't ask me questions you know the answers to. I don't have time to waste here."

The tanned boy gasped, backing into the cab of the truck, "You're dead. Bella's _dead_," he suddenly narrowed his eyes, "the bloodsucker told me about _you_. You killed her didn't you? And now you're tricking me…"

"No," she growled, infuriated, "why does everyone… never mind. I'm Bella Swan. Charlie Swan's daughter. When you were sixteen, you dove off a cliff to save me, remember? I don't… really, but Edward reminded me."

He watched her suspiciously, and when it finally sunk in, when he finally realized that it was Bella before him, not her murderer, he growled, "What are you doing here, Bella? And how are you… _existing_, I should say, since you're not really alive anymore?"

She pressed her lips together, looking at the other two boys, who were glancing between the two, sensing the tension, "Can we talk?" she asked, "for old times sake, Jacob?"

He turned his face away from her, the muscles in his jaw popping, "You have five minutes."

She huffed, annoyed, "I only really need one."

He smiled sarcastically as he jumped from the bed of the truck, "Perfect."

* * *

If it had been an ancient battlefield they were standing on, the rest of the soldiers would have certainly ceased their fighting and turned their eyes to the divine creatures at the center. The woods surrounding them were quiet, and the clearing they were in seemed more beautiful as they occupied it. Bella hated that it had come to this, however, that she and Jacob no longer shared that intense, luminescent bond they had when she was human. The one Edward and Jasper had told her of in great detail on a night of reflection. Edward, with the memories clear from Jacob's mind and Jasper with his recollections of her feelings. 

"You look well," Bella offered, wondering when she had perfected such professional speech. Did it come with being a vampire, or was she used to the enhanced mannerisms from spending so much time engrossed with natives from more elegant times?

"You too," he grunted, "for someone whose supposed to be dead."

She laughed, bitter and short, "For some reason, I remember you as being a lot more easygoing."

His glare intensified, cutting into her, "I'm surprised you remember_ anything_."

"Be rude to me all you want," she hissed, hands folding into fists as her anger boiled, "but I _came_ here to remember, to see if we could still be friendly, to see you again Jake… And I won't be inconvenienced by your apathy."

He recoiled, hurt coloring his features for a moment before his face smoothed, and he sank back into his carefree façade. She sighed, trying to smile, trying to ease the feeling that said to kill Jacob, and _get the werewolf out of the way_. Those weren't her thoughts, she reasoned, but the monster in her.

"So you're here," he said offhandedly, "how?"

"I was dead… for a while. The venom in me reacted strangely to my physique. Like molasses in a glass jar, it wound through me slowly, and resulted in my change. Seven days after my bite."

He whistled lowly, like a cat call, and then his eyes flashed to the sun in the distance, "I think about you a lot. About how you used to be," his gaze returned to her sculpted face, deflated, "but I hardly recognize you now. Maybe I'll be able to move on."

Her brows pulled together and she made a strange noise in the pit of her chest, "Maybe."

They were silent for a long while, and her stomach seemed to drop when he spoke again, "What is it that you want Bella?" He broke her with his next words, "I should have killed you the second you stepped on the rez, so tell me, why shouldn't I?"

She bit her lip, hard, threatened to tear it, "Because I'm your friend? Because, no matter what, I will always be _me_ and you will always be _you_. What if we didn't have bodies Jake? What if we were just spirits, floating around, and I had no cravings for blood, and you had no urge to kill me. Would you still hate me as powerfully as you do now? Would there still be a barrier in our way?"

"Yeah," he growled, shaking the trees around him, "two."

"Two?"

"Edward. And the fact that you could never love me as much as I do, you."

* * *

Edward watched his little sister, and the way her and Jasper could communicate without words—even though none of them had his power. Were he and Bella like that? Or _had_ they been? Every day the regret would creep up on him, thinking back to that very first time he saw her. What if he had stayed in Alaska? What if he hadn't of come back after Italy? What would have happened then? 

"Stop it," Jasper reprimanded him, soft eyes turning hard, "she's gone not an hour and already you're remorseful."

"Remorseful?" Alice's eyes glittered with curiosity, "About?"

"Am I selfish?" Edward seemed to be speaking to himself, his eyes distant.

"Horribly so," Emmett drawled, stepping into the room, "Get over it, man. What's done is done. I _know_ you know that."

"And what about what's not done?" Edward hissed, "what about what we still have left to face? Kale, Humanity, a modern Armageddon? Don't you worry at all Emmett? _Ever?"_

"Sure," he tossed his burly shoulders, "in the five seconds before something bad happens, I'm shakin' in my boots, brother."

Edward couldn't help his smirk, and he shook his head, rising from the couch, "You disgust me, frankly."

Emmett's eyes grew wide, "How sweet! I never knew you felt that way, Ed."

"Shut up," Rosalie descended the stairs, looking every part the diva in her extravagant cocktail dress and high, _high_ heeled shoes.

Edward scoured her mind for her destination, and a wide smile pressed itself onto his face, "Put your best suit on, _brother."_

Emmett growled, turning to Rosalie, "I am not going to another stinking play."

She raised one, finely shaped brow, "_I_ say you are."

"And I say," they traded a long, intense look, until Emmett looked away, downcast, and muttered, "I am."

* * *

"You can't love me." 

Jacob snorted and stepped forward, desperately grasping her shoulders, "I can, Bella, and I do."

She looked away from him, prying his fingers from her jacket, "Then I should go."

His fears were confirmed. She didn't love him, _couldn't_ really. Her heart belonged to that bloodsucking son of a leech. But he could swallow that, _for now_. She'd come here for a reason, one more important than just their friendship.

"Why did you really come here, Bella? There's something you're not telling me." He sized her up, trying to read her intentions in those tawny, slightly eerie eyes.

"There is _something_," she muttered, "something the Cullens don't know about.

"I want to reinstate a treaty, one of partnership. We'll need help soon, as I'm sure you've noticed our kinds current state of upheaval." _Funny_, Jacob thought, _Edward said almost the exact same thing_, "In return for your help in this impending war, for there will be war, we'll help you in anything you need."

"We don't take help from bloodsuckers," Jacob hissed immediately, not even considering the pros. A band of immortals at their disposal. That could be useful.

"Think about it, Jake," she crooned, "don't leave us out there to die, just because our views differ from the rest of the populace."

"Why _shouldn't_ I leave you out there to die? It'd be eight less vampires to worry about."

She snarled, and the sound, coming from her, was strangely misplaced, "I'm asking you to help me. _Not_ as a vampire_. Not_ as an enemy. And _not_ as a liaison. I'm asking you as Bella. _Your friend_."

He backed up, shaking his head, "No."

"We_ aren't_ the only ones vulnerable here, Jacob. If we fall, so do you. How long do you think it will take until my kind turns its hungry eye to you, hmm? How long until they see that Werewolves could pose a bigger threat than they originally thought? And when they come after you, you won't be able to handle it all on your own, not with the gifts they have, not with the way they can control you," she was passionate in her words, and he was listening now, finally, "let us help you, and help us in return. Neither of us wants to die, Jacob, and leave this world without its protectors."

He stood, still, thinking of the people in his village, of the people outside his village, across oceans, and over mountains. Every little boy wanted to save the world. Would he actually get the chance to do it?

"You'll have to talk to Sam."

Her face cleared, and she smiled brilliantly, showing all her teeth, "Thank you!" She pressed herself to her tiptoes, slinging her arms around his neck, and wrinkling her nose against the too sweet smell. His arms, slow and unsure, wrapped themselves around her.

"No problem."

* * *

Sam wasn't home when they went to visit. _But he will be_, Jacob thought nervously as he led Bella into Emily's house. As soon as he was back near the rez, he'd catch a whiff of Bella—and near Emily. 

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he whined, "I mean Emily is human…"

Bella bristled, and so did Paul, unfortunately, "Watch yourself, leech," he snarled. Bella turned keen eyes to him and smiled.

"Paul," she said, "nice to see you."

He shrugged, "Wish I could say the same."

The potent smell of human blood was everywhere, and Bella's nostrils flared. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but that was worse. Then she could _taste_ it.

"Hello again, Bella," Emily stood in the hallway that led from the kitchen to the bedroom, not daring to move forward.

"Emily, I presume? I'm sorry… I don't quite remember." She stopped talking when her breath ran out, not daring to take another. Jake looked between the girls, and then back to Emily.

"Hey, Em? Sorry to kick you out of your own house, but do you think we could use it for a meeting real quick?" He looked abashed, but Emily merely smiled.

"I think I'll go over to Sue's. See you later, guys." She picked her spring jacket up from the hook on the back of the door, and then proceeded outside. Sam skidded to a halt in front of her, still in his wolf form. Seeing her safe, he nuzzled his head to her chest, and she patted it fondly.

And then his black eyes turned to the house.

He quickly morphed, not shamed in the least to change in front of Bella, who turned her head in embarrassment.

"Isabella," he greeted her stiffly, "what are you doing on my land?"

"She came to talk," Jake defended her, though he didn't know why, "to find a common ground."

"We don't bargain with--."

"Leeches, I _know_," Bella groaned, "But this, I think, you'll find in your best interest."

Sam sat down backwards in a chair, watching her with hate-filled eyes, "Shoot."

"We're on the eve of war. My kind is revealing itself to the world, and there is little time left for humanity to hold on to its shreds of survival. This is a holocaust, a mass genocide. Our…" she tripped over the word, "_rulers_ of sort, are no longer civilized, but have been replaced with, excuse the expression, bloodthirsty monsters. Kale, Rue, Declan and Avery are four _very_ volatile, and at the same time, very brilliant revolutionaries. Our kind doesn't want to hide any longer." She took a deep breath, smelling blood miles away, "They want to be feared, respected. They're coming out of seclusion, and into the public. And if we don't stop the New Order," she sighed, "there won't be a world left to protect, and you all, I'm afraid, will be among the first to die."

Paul laughed, a strong bellow, "Let them try and kill us," he clenched his fist, "there'll be nothing left to find but ash."

"You're six or seven against hundreds? Thousands?" Bella shook her head, pitiful, "You won't last two minutes."

"There's ten of us," Sam said strongly, "_ten_."

She smiled, a regretful air in her gaze, "Ten against ten hundred?"

"Either way, I don't see how this information could beneficial," Sam grunted, unimpressed, "all you've told us is how we're going to die. We've got the elders for that."

"Listen," she whispered, her voice a morbid lullaby, "if you help us to defeat Kale and his acquaintances we will help you to defeat the rogues who threaten you afterward. As we stand now, my kind will come in hoards to kill you. Treaties and fear aside," she pierced them all with her stare, "Especially if they're young."

Quil folded his arms across his chest, "We can't just up and leave La Push to fly to never never land. That's _asking_ for the slaughter of our people."

Bella looked off, out the window, "Send half, then, and leave half of your pack as protection."

"I don't know about this. How do I know this isn't some elaborate--."

"Do you love Emily?" Bella asked, her tone no longer submissive, but harsh, brutal, as only eleven months in solitude could teach her, _"_I said_ do you love her?_

"Of course," Sam answered gruffly, not liking the turn their conversation had taken.

"You're tied to her, as I am to Edward, and so wouldn't you do anything to save her? I let myself die for the one I love, Sam, I sacrificed my soul, my _body_ to save him, his family. My memories are gone, my friends," her eyes shot to Jacob and then back, "my family, all because I would give anything, _anything_ to secure his life.

"Now imagine Emily dead; in the hands of some faceless, nameless vampire. Imagine as he drinks her dry, Sam, and _then_ tell me you won't do whatever the hell it takes to prevent that. Tell me you won't do whatever it takes to make sure that not one more person has to go through a loss so terrible."

_"Tell me that you'll help us."

* * *

_

_Ring around the rosies_,  
_A pocketful of posies._  
**_ashes, ashes._  
_We all fall down_.**

* * *

_And le plot thickens. Review, because I'm starved for some reassurance?_


	13. Athena

**_You know what I want? To write a King Arthur fic. You must have seen that movie… the one with Clive Owen? How many stories there are to be uncovered… I just love writing about new stuff. So if any of you love those sexy men in their sexy armor, then go read it when I post it._**

**_

* * *

_**

_A Delphian Utopia_

10

_Athena_

* * *

Jordan was burning up. He was so hot that even the flimsy sheet of his hotel bed seemed too much, like it was pushing him beneath the magma of the volcano erupting in his chest. He wouldn't be surprised if his skin started bubbling, or his hands sprouted blisters while the flesh melted from his face.

Something pushed him up—and he landed with a thud against the wall at his bedside. The cool stucco was only momentary relief before his temperature made even that hot. Breathing hard through the flames in his throat, he made his way over to the bathroom, turning on the cold water of the tap. He splashed it into his face and then all over his arms, his bare torso. With no coordination, he stumbled towards the shower and turned the dial, entering it with all his clothes on.

_What's happening to me?_ He'd had fevers before, but this felt as if the sun were inside him, burning him from his heart to his lungs. Suffering was the word that came to mind, along with torture. Did he eat something bad at that Italian restaurant? Did his mom poison him? Bollocks, if she wanted him dead, she was doing a damn good job of it.

The water was up to his chest by now, and he laid his head against the freezing porcelain. The fire quelled but did not vanish, and he felt his lips cracking from the intensity of the flame. After a brief moment—where it felt as if he'd broken the excruciating fever—there was a bright, white flash of agony.

His bones were breaking.

His skull cracked open.

His skin was crawling, shifting, rearranging.

There was only one conclusion Jordan could come to.

He was dying..

* * *

Bella moved through the trees with fluidity, her eyes landing on her home settled into the countryside not two hundred yards away. She walked over their expansive front yard and opened the door with bated breath. She had a lot to tell her family, and she could only hope they forgave her. For taking every initiative, for dragging up an old truce with their enemies, for leaving without a word to anyone except for Edward and Alice. Would Carlisle mind that she intruded on his position as decision maker, as leader? 

She shook away her thoughts—there was no one home but Edward anyways.

"Hello?"

He was before her immediately—smiling that beautiful smile of his. He wore light jeans today, with a black sweater that hugged his chest nicely. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, as if he were modeling for some modern magazine ad. Could he look any more beautiful if he tried?

"Hello," he answered, reaching out to take her bag from her, "welcome home."

She pulled it back out of his reach dropping it by her feet and intertwining their fingers instead. His lips were soft when she pressed her mouth to them, and his hands offered a welcome embrace.

"I missed you," he breathed.

"Yeah," she laughed quietly, "immersed in a town of memories, and all I could think of was you."

Edward's face fell and suddenly he was all business, "What happened?"

Bella lifted her shoulders in a large exhale, dropping them dramatically as she settled into the couch, Edward on the opposite side of it, her feet on his lap.

"You're probably going to be upset," she began slowly, "but really, if you think about it… it's not so bad."

He only raised his brows but said nothing as he traced the arch of her feet.

"The wolves have agreed to help us when the time comes. When we fight Kale."

Edward's breath cut off sharply and his eyes switched to Bella's face. "We haven't even discussed that. You know Carlisle would rather avoid aggression, why do you push it?"

She retracted her feet, leaning in towards her lover, "Edward," she said clearly, strongly, "Don't you feel like you owe something to all the innocents out there who are being massacred by our kind? You know we can stop this."

Edward gave a humorless chuckle, "Stop this?" he rose from his place, "Bella, we're not superheroes, we're vampires. The damned. The cursed. Humanity would rather die than accept help from the ones who are killing them," he looked down at her, pity mingled with disappointment in his eyes, "You can't fight Kale, Bella. You'd never win."

She took on a dangerous frown, "You don't know that. I'm almost positive that I'm capable of a lot more than you think."

It sounded like a threat, and she was certainly stiff enough in her seat to be pressuring him, but Edward could not just back down. "No, Bella. You've shown no evidence of any power except a rare immunity. In strength, you're as powerful as Esme or Rosalie. You're inexperienced in battle, and you let your emotions control you. Kale would _ruin_ you."

She growled, her eyes going a flat, cold black, "Think something," she demanded.

He rolled his eyes, "Bella."

"Edward," she mocked with venom, "Think about something. Anything."

So he did. He thought about their first kiss, about the first night he watched her sleep, about the way she whispered his name when they made love.

She smirked, her eyes lightening, "A kiss we shared while I was human," she spoke with only truth, her honeyed eyes only on Edward, "me, as a human once more, sleeping this time," her fingers wound around his hands, "me again, whispering your name… I'm starting to think that I'm all that's on your mind."

"You are," he choked out, "Bella, why did you keep quiet about this? You can…"

"I can feel your emotions too, and see the future when Alice is near. In Volterra I froze the vampires who followed me—I'd love to know who has that power, it'd be useful," her whole face lit up now as she rambled, "I don't think it had developed before my escape, however. Kale's power never came to me when I was angry. And I was always angry around him."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I shouldn't have said those things."

She shook her head, "My actions run away with me sometimes. I should have spoken to you or to Carlisle before I asked them to help us."

"But this changes nothing, my love. We still don't have the means to take on an army. There's only so much we can do, Bella."

She nodded, a new resolve budding within her, "I'll fight forever if I have to, Kale must be killed. He's ruining this world." Her eyes closed and she smiled slightly, "I want a future where I don't have to worry about our lives every second of every day."

"Bella if Carlisle doesn't want to fight, please know that I'll go with you," he ran his thumb along her cheek, "I'll always follow you."

* * *

He remembered the dream vividly. The only thing he didn't recall was ever falling asleep. 

Jordan rolled over, and his eyes widened in shocked horror. His hotel room was a mess—everything ripped, torn, thrown this way and that. It looked like a tornado had gone through it. Twice.

"Shite," he swore, his mouth flapping like a fish, "oh, mum's going to kill me."

Not only had he awoken with no clothes on, but now he was going to have to explain everything to his mother. Glancing back at the window, he weighed the pros and cons. If he jumped, she'd probably feel bad and not yell. But then he would most likely die on impact.

_I don't really fancy a funeral right now…_

"Wait a tick," something on the floor caught his attention, and he scooped up the wet jeans he'd gotten into the shower with. Just like in his dream they were shredded. As if he really _had_ exploded into some hairy beast. As if he really _had_ been running naked through the halls of the hotel in the early hours of the morning hoping against hope that no one would see him.

He dropped the indistinguishable piece of denim, moving back towards the fall wall. The stucco hardly offered him comfort now as his fingers pressed into the grain. There were stories in his family—stories his dad had made a nightly ritual before his disappearance. Or his desertion. Whatever way one chose to look at it.

Jordan sucked in a deep breath, feeling his lungs repulse the air as soon as it entered them.

"Jordie?" his mother was knocking on his door, her voice troubled, "are you ill, love?"

_Was_ he ill? Or was he hallucinating? Going crazy?

Jordan wrapped a towel around himself, and took another breath. He opened the door a crack, peeking out at his mother in the hallway, "I'm not feeling too well, mum. I think I'll pass on the sights for today."

"Hmmm," she pressed her hand to his forehead, retracting her hand immediately, "You're quite warm. Do you want me to stay with you darling?"

He was quick to say 'no', and he shut the door immediately after she departed, sinking down the floor.

_Now_, he sorted out his thoughts, _to figure out what the hell is going on_.

_

* * *

Volterra, New Order_

_3__rd__ of February_

Kale smoothed the rose petal between his fingertips, watching as the disintegrated pieces fell back to the earth. He was in a wasteland—something out of a hallucination he'd collected from a victim. The world had been annihilated and only one, yellow rose bush remained. He walked through the empty planes, the barren deserts, the dried up oceans.

This, his mind whispered, is what you're doing.

He supposed that now a days, he'd be considered mentally ill. Crazy. And maybe he was. But was it really so bad that he'd rather linger in his delusions than the shit hole he'd made of the world?

He chuckled humorlessly, looking down at the beige brown grass. Would the world wither and die if he continued to let things progress as they were? Would it end up like this? No beauty, no water, no life? And, most importantly, was he going to do anything about it?

"I have to talk to you."

He blinked, coming out of the hallucination, and into the main are of his rooms. Ray stood behind him in a pair of black, skin tight pants and a short dress. She looked lovely, as she always had—with her hair of fire and her lips that resembled rosebuds.

"Am I going to enjoy the conversation?" he asked playfully, his eyes having finished their surveillance of her form, "or am I going to have to yell summore?"

She cracked a grin against her will—having come here set on still hating him. _But does love just fall away like that?_

"No," she shrugged, "no yelling. Promise."

He nodded, motioning for her to sit. She chose the chaise, stretching her legs out and reclining her head, her curtain of crimson hair falling over the back of the furniture in luxurious waves.

"So how goes the rebellion?" Ray switched her eyes to him—that odd color of honey—and then back to the ceiling, "Not as easy as it looks, Kale?"

He settled back into his chair, gripping the arms tightly between strong hands, "No. Far from easy, actually. The covens are getting larger and smaller at the same time. Our kind doesn't know if they'd rather an army behind them, or if they much prefer taking over the world alone," he sighed, ending his ramble, "It wasn't meant to be like this. _I_ wasn't meant to be like this."

Ray felt pity creep up on her, and she tried desperately to suppress the feeling, "I don't remember you ever wanting to be in control, Kale," she smiled wickedly, licking her lips, "you always preferred to be the muscle," she looked over at him coldly, "or the mind I should say."

He glanced over at her for a moment before dropping his head, "I don't think I ever really apologized…"

"For the night you walked out on me?" she breathed, "or for the shit you put into my head not two hours before it happened?" Her voice was passive, but her face belied her heart—all twisted into a grimace.

"You drove me crazy," remorse colored his tone, "it was the only way I knew how to leave without a scene."

She bit her lip and reached out to touch his knees, "I know it was short-lived," she began, "but I loved you Kale, and seeing you again, like this, with so much on your mind…" she took a deep breath, "Kale, I'm leaving. And I'm going to help bring down the monsters you've created."

"You can't leave," he growled, "I've forbidden it."

"What are you going to do? Put me in chains?" she raised one brow, looking seductively dangerous.

"If you leave now, I can't guarantee your safety," he warned, looking to his fireplace, "you won't last a minute out there."

"That's not your concern anymore."

He roared, clenching his fists, "Go then. Follow Bella into the lion's den. You'll both die for your impulses in this war."

"We'll see." She stood, looking at him over her shoulder, "I still care about you, Kale. But don't get in my way," her footsteps were hollow as she marched across the room, reaching for the door, "I'm not afraid to kill you."

* * *

A hand wrapped around hers in the darkness and she gasped, having sensed no presence.

"It's me," Avery stepped from the darkness, looking at her through hooded red eyes, "just me."

Ray smiled quietly, readjusting her bag on her shoulder, "Well that's a relief."

Avery smiled as well, and Ray found he was exceptionally handsome when he did so, which was not often enough. His eyes flicked to her bag, and then to her face sheathed in moonlight. His smile had fallen.

"Where are you going?"

Ray looked to the night sky, to the stars, and knew that she belonged out there somewhere, fighting for the cause she saw in Bella's eyes the night of her flight.

"To fix things," she whispered, "to smooth over all of Kale's mistakes."

Avery looked back at the sewer she'd emerged from, "I'm going with you."

Ray laughed gently, "No you aren't."

"Yes," the intensity in his eyes was raw, and she felt butterflies in her stomach as his fingertips hesitantly reached out to trace her cheekbone.

"I was married to a woman when I was human," he told her softly, "a red-head. Her name was Adeline, and she was lovely, just like you are. You remind me of her. Of her laugh, and her smile, and her strength. She would frown on me now, if she knew what I've become," he dropped his hand to the curve of her neck, "I want to fight for something that makes sense, Ray, something that means more than this power-hungry struggle to be on top."

His hand once again cradled her face, and she pressed her lips to his alabaster wrist, "Okay."

_

* * *

proclaim eternal victory_

_come on and change the course of history_

_and pull us through_

_and pull us through_

_and this is the end _

_this is the end of the world_

* * *

**Excuse my abuse of British slang. I'm afraid I've never been there. I just watch BBC sometimes. So if you're reading this, and you're like 'we don't say that, man', then I apologise. I tried my best. Review please?**


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